SAVING GRACES
by Patcat
Summary: Bobby returns to a new case and life.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

He stared at the grey concrete building. For over six years he'd spent more time in that building than he had in his apartment. He'd enjoyed some of his greatest triumphs and suffered some of his worst failures in that building. He knew the building and many of the people who worked in it as well as he'd known anything or anyone in his life. He started as he realized he'd never stayed in a place or a job as long as he'd stayed at this place and with this position. He'd certainly never allowed anyone to become as close to him as he had Alex Eames. In the past six years she'd become something considerably more than a partner, something more than a friend, something less than a lover. It was, he realized with another shock, the most important relationship in his life outside of the one with his mother, and by far the best. "And in the last six months," Robert Goren thought. "I've almost destroyed it."

He leaned back against the building behind him. It was still early, and the streets not yet filled with people. He wasn't due in the office for another hour, but sleep largely eluded him the previous night. Now that he stood across the street from One Police Plaza, he couldn't bring himself to enter the building. Bobby sighed and ran a hand through his graying curls. He'd hoped that returning to work would help him, would fill the terrible emptiness that came after his mother's death. But the only things filling the void were fear and doubt. "I don't know who I am," he thought. "I'm not sure I even know…" He sighed and shifted his leather binder from his right to left hand. "The only thing I've ever been sure of is work…and now," he thought. "I'm not sure of that…"

He took a deep breath and walked across the street. He dreaded facing the other members of the Major Case Squad. He had no idea of any of them knew what passed between him and Mark Ford Brady. He was fairly certain that the prison guards had kept their silence about what happened in Brady's cell; one whispered that Bobby could have saved the state the cost of execution. Ross knew only that Brady had some connection to Bobby's mother, and that the condemned man ruthlessly exploited that connection. His captain apparently thought that Frances Goren was one of Brady's victims, and gave no sign that he knew Bobby might be the killer's biological son. Alex knew a little more, but not much. "Mom was his victim," Bobby thought. "I'm sure of that…Her visit to that shack…Something happened…It triggered a breakdown…Frank said she was never the same…But…can I trust anything Frank said…"

He reached the front door. Bobby pulled out his badge and ID and showed them to the security officer. As he rode the elevator to the eleventh floor, he considered Ross' warning that he might be returning to work too soon. "But I have to get back," Bobby thought. "I have to know if I can do this…And…And I owe Eames…At the very least…I owe her…"

The elevator opened, and Bobby propelled his body into the hall. He hesitated at the entrance to the squad room. At the early hour the room was largely empty with only a few people scattered at desks. Bobby saw a weary looking Mike Logan seated across from a young woman Bobby didn't recognize—he guessed it was Logan's temporary partner. Both were dealing with piles of paper work. A wave of guilt swept Bobby. He knew Logan and other detectives had taken up the slack of his absence, and he'd read enough between Alex's words in their few conversations to recognize the Brass was pressing on Ross. In the days after his mother's funeral, Bobby tried to ignore the news, but headlines and bulletins seized his attention and jostled his conscience. There were reports of a nasty and powerful new variety of heroin on the streets, a bank heist in the Bronx, the shooting of a young officer in Brooklyn, and the disappearance of a thirteen-year-old boy on the upper West Side. And those were the cases that managed to make the papers.

Bobby sat at his desk and surveyed his surroundings. His reference books sat at one end of the desk, and Bobby was surprised to see that the volumes showed signs of use or at least of being disturbed. The Santa Mug's replacement, still unmarked and dazzlingly red and white, sat on Alex's desk, which held several neat piles of folders, files, and papers. (Alex once wryly described her desk as an example of "organized chaos"; Bobby responded that his desk must be "disorganized chaos" in comparison.) Bobby clicked on his computer and began dealing with the emails, phone messages, and paper requests that had accumulated in his week away from the office. He worked quietly and efficiently; only the messages of consolation slowed him, and there were blessedly few of them. There were requests for interviews from the press and from the FBI and other agencies. Brady's massive and detailed confession broke many cold cases, and the families of the killer's victims and Bobby's superiors hailed him for getting Brady's confession. These accolades made Bobby feel like a complete fraud. He'd never looked at Brady's "gift." Alex gently told him that the document didn't mention anything about Frances Goren, although it appeared that several sections dealing with Brady's activities in the early 1960s were heavily edited. Bobby couldn't understand why Brady sent him the confession. Was it an attempt to reach him from beyond the grave? A perverted gift from a demented and demonic "father" to his supposed "son"? Was the absence of information about Frances Goren a continuing torture or an attempt to protect her and her son from public examination? Had Brady sent Bobby the document as an acknowledgment that the younger man, no matter what his biological makeup, was a good man? Was it an act of penance, designed to bring some peace to his victims and their families? Bobby had no idea. All he knew was that the confession resulted in the end of years—even decades—of doubt for many families, and the lionization—rightly or wrongly--of Captain Danny Ross, Detective Alex Eames, and Detective Bobby Goren.

Bobby stared at a sheet of paper. It was a note from the parents of one of Brady's more recent victims. "Thank you," it read. "Now we know where our Mary is. We can bring her home and bury her. We won't wake up and go to the door in the middle of the night to make sure she's not trying to get home. We won't stare at young women in the streets and think that they're our daughter. Thank you."

Bobby rubbed his eyes. "I should've gotten some coffee when I came in," he thought. "Maybe I shouldn't have come in at all…"

The warm, rich smell of coffee reached him, followed by a subtle scent of lavender.

"Hey," Alex said softly. "Welcome back." She placed a large coffee on Bobby's desk.

"Hey," Bobby answered tentatively. "It's…it's good to be back…I think…" He smiled weakly. "Thanks." He raised the coffee. "And…and for helping me through the funeral…and after. I'm sorry…I…I wasn't…" He struggled for the words.

"It's ok." Alex sat across from him. "You had a good excuse."

Bobby stared at his desk. "Maybe," he whispered. "But you were terrific…and I…I wasn't really there, I guess." He glanced at her shyly. "It was good of your family to come…I…I didn't expect anyone…and there were all those people…" He rubbed his hands along the edge of his desk.

"And then you called me last week…and kept in touch with me…even when I…" He looked up at her again. "Thank you, Eames."

"Like I said," Alex said brightly. "It's not a big deal. It's not like you were rude or anything, Bobby." She leaned closer to him. "Actually, I thought you were very considerate…very nice…to everyone…"

Bobby shuffled several papers. "It's…I feel like abandoned you…the Squad…You had to deal with the fallout from… Brady…"

Alex frowned at the mention of Brady's name, and Bobby's hesitation in saying it. She didn't know the details of her partner's confrontation with the killer, but from the evidence of their previous encounters with Brady and the contents of his scrapbooks, Alex had pieced together the horrible conclusion that Frances Goren was one of his victims. She strongly sensed there was far more to the story—that Brady's possible attack had something to do with Frances Goren's fall into mental illness, that Brady sought some connection between himself and Bobby—but Bobby steadfastly refused to discuss the case. For the past week, he'd been away and dealing with the ripples of his mother's death. As Alex dealt with the ramifications of Brady's "gift", she was alternately envious of and grateful for Bobby's absence—envious that he didn't have to deal with the storm and grateful that he was away from it. It broke her heart to see how the storm's last waves buffeted Bobby this morning.

"Yea," Alex said gently. "But I wasn't in the trenches dealing with Brady…and didn't have to deal with my mother's death at the same time."

Bobby concentrated on the papers before him for several minutes, and Alex feared she'd crossed some line. But when he looked up at her, gratitude filled Bobby's eyes. "You're being very generous," he said. "But then…you're being you." He smiled sadly.

Ross appeared at their desks. "Good to see you back, Detective," the captain said. "We've missed you. But don't push it, all right?"

Throughout the morning, several detectives greeted Bobby warmly. Alex watched him respond with barely disguised surprise and felt the uncomfortably familiar sensations of sadness and bewilderment at Bobby's reaction. "How," she thought. "Can a man so bright who reads people so well know so little about how people feel about him?" She chewed on her pen and studied her partner. His face was drawn, but the circles beneath his eyes weren't quite as dark as they were in the previous week. He was wary and guarded, but his body no longer vibrated like a tightly wound wire. "He's here, at least," Alex thought. "And he seems to want to be here. There's been times in the last nine months when he's acted as if he not only didn't care if he was here but as if he didn't care if he kept his job or not. He's here, and he's trying to reach out, at least for Bobby."

For the past six months the ground shifted constantly beneath Alex's feet, and she imagined that Bobby's footing was even more treacherous. She was convinced that Bobby had been as tortured by the Gages as she had been. After the attack on her, he reached out to her in small, tender moves that warmed and broke her heart—she remembered waking in the hospital to seeing him sitting next to her bed with his left hand clutching her right and his right arm stretched out over her body. And then Bobby's mother became physically ill, and he reeled like a yo-yo, one moment rushing to Alex for help, the next lurching away from her. Alex missed the ease of their professional relationship, but missed the ties of the personal one even more. She had friends, but not so many that she could lose one, and she certainly couldn't afford to lose this one. After their bruising—especially for Bobby—encounter with Mark Ford Brady and the death of Bobby's mother, Alex feared her partner might not return to Major Case or to the NYPD.

She studied Bobby carefully across their desks, trying not to make her scrutiny too obvious. She was grateful for his return, but wondered if he was coming back too soon. Her contact with Bobby in the week since his mother's funeral had been sporadic, with scarcely more than a few words passing between them and just frequently enough to let Alex know that Bobby was still among the living and the sane.

It took only a little prodding to get him to leave the office for lunch, although he did insist on buying. It took more effort to get him to speak to her. After receiving short mumbled replies to queries about his health, the weather, and New York baseball, Alex went for the direct approach.

"I'm glad you're back," she said quietly.

Bobby moved his fork. "It's good…At least I think…It's good to be back."

Alex popped a black olive from her salad into her mouth; Bobby had taken the green ones. "Yea…and not just because of the paperwork and that you eat the parts of my salad that I don't like. Although Logan has made a couple of remarks about our desks becoming fire hazards."

A smile haunted Bobby's face. "We might be able to pass inspection now."

"Do you," Alex asked, encouraged by his response. "Want to talk about anything?"

For several moments Bobby ripped at his napkin. "There…there's not much," he finally said. "Thank you…Your family…for coming to the funeral…It meant a lot."

"My parents got your card," Alex said. "They were surprised you got it out so quickly."

"I…I'm glad they got it…I wanted to get the thank you cards out…And I needed something to do…" He stared at the remains of the napkin. "I…I didn't send you one…It…it seemed silly…to send a card to someone…so…" His voice caught in his throat.

Alex reached tentatively across the table to rest her hand on Bobby's. "Yea, especially to someone sitting across a desk from you."

"There were so many people at the funeral," Bobby said softly. "I…I apologized to the priest and the funeral director…I'd told them there probably wouldn't be many people…And the church…" He shook his head. "It…It was nearly full…It looked like all of the Squad was there…"

"They do appreciate your work," Alex said gently. "And the way you take the flack from the Brass…and the Captain…"

His napkin lay in shreds on his plate. "It's just…none of them knew her…"

"They know her son," Alex said.

They walked silently back to the office. As they slipped in the door, Mike Logan met them.

"Brass and an FBI guy in the Captain's office," he said. "And the temperature seems pretty cool."

Bobby winced slightly.

"Maybe it doesn't have anything to do with us?" Alex said hopefully.

Logan shook his head. "Someone heard Goren's name…and the Captain keeps looking at your desks."

Bobby sighed. "Thanks for the headsup, Logan." He looked at Alex. "I don't suppose we've got a good reason to get out of here?"

"Nope…sorry," she said with a grim smile. "And it's too late…They've spotted us…"

Ross stepped out of his office; he looked nearly as grim as Alex. "Eames, Goren," he said professionally. "If you could step in here…"

They shared a wary look as they entered the captain's office.

"You know the Chief of Detectives," Ross said quietly. "And I think you know Captain Don Cragen of SVU. This is Special Agent Stephen Warren of the FBI."

Bobby and Alex acknowledged the Chief of Detectives with a cautious nod. They believed he fell on the side of James Deakins in the not so hidden divisions in the department created by their former captain's resignation, but both viewed all of the department brass with suspicion. Neither knew Cragen beyond seeing the sad-eyed captain at various departmental events, but his reputation was good, especially with Deakins. Warren seemed to lack the arrogance and stubbornness of the worst of FBI agents and to have the calm and professionalism of the best of them.

"Great job on the Brady case, Goren," the Chief said.

Bobby stared at his feet. "Detective Eames…Captain Ross…deserves a great deal of the credit, sir." Alex noted that both Cragen and Warren appeared impressed by Bobby's humility. "I…I just happened to be there," Bobby said.

"I'd say you were more than there," Warren said. "There have been attempts to get Brady to talk for years."

"I…I think he was just ready to talk…Maybe everyone else softened him up…" Bobby looked around the office. "Is that what we're here for?" He couldn't quite keep a desperate edge from his voice.

"No," the Chief said. "Although I was afraid Warren might be part of a force trying to get you to the FBI." He glanced at Cragen. "It's a current case."

Cragen sighed. "You might have heard about the disappearance of a thirteen-year-old boy on the upper West Side," he said. "His name is Michael Flynn. His father is George Flynn."

"Ah," Bobby said quietly.

"The psychologist with the rather extreme views on parenting," Alex said in a tone that indicated she didn't agree with those views.

"Yes…Controversial views, as I guess you both know," Warren said. He lifted several files from Ross' desk. "The Bureau doesn't believe the father's views have anything to do with the kid's disappearance. And we're involved mostly because Flynn caused a ruckus." He glanced at Cragen. "This is the Manhattan SVU's case…We know it…It's not within the FBI's jurisdiction, although the Bureau will help as much as it can."

"There may be nothing to warrant bringing you in," the Chief of Detectives said as apologetically as he ever sounded. "But I want all the bases touched. Flynn knows people, and he's pulling strings to get the best assigned to this case." The Chief looked at Bobby. "And you're the best…" He walked to Bobby. "I'd appreciate your assistance in this case, Detective. And I'd welcome the chance to talk to you about your future with the Department."

Bobby reddened and stared at his shoes. "Thank you, sir…but I'm where I want to be…"

The Chief nodded and left the room, leaving an uneasy silence.

"I take it," Bobby said quietly. "That this cooperation among departments and squads isn't entirely voluntary?"

Ross and Cragen shared a wary look. Warren fought off a smile. "You may be as smart as your reputation," the agent said. "Truth is Mr. Flynn…or Doctor Flynn, as he insists on being called…"

"Even though his doctorates are only honorary degrees," Bobby said.

"Yea," Warren said. "To say he's difficult is an understatement. He called the Mayor's office and the head of the Bureau here in New York minutes after he reported his son missing." The agent shrugged. "But if it was my kid and I had those connections, maybe I'd do the same."

"SVU has, of course, already started the investigation," Ross said. "And there's a possibility that Michael Flynn isn't missing at all…"

"Flynn and his wife are in the middle of a nasty separation," Cragen said. "My detectives have already established that Michael was very upset by it and told some of his friends that he wanted to get away from both of his parents. We're following that and other leads."

"Flynn," Bobby said. "Doesn't want to think…or doesn't want people to know…that his son would run away…

"Not good publicity for a man who tells America how to raise its kids," Alex said.

"No," Cragen said. "My people can deal with the boy's disappearance…But I can always use more good people…and if it appeases Flynn…I'd be grateful for the help…"

"And the FBI's resources are available to you," Warren said. "I need to get back to the office…but I'll leave you these files…They deal with some similar cases. If something else comes up, I'll contact you immediately. I know the Bureau and the NYPD don't always mesh, but I'm not one of those territorial guys. And I'll let my bosses and yours know we're working together." As he moved to leave, Warren turned to Bobby. "A pleasure to meet the man who got Brady to confess, Detective. I look forward to working with you."

"Brady," Cragen said after Warren departed. "Was a nasty piece of work."

"I'd rather discuss this case," Bobby said quickly.

"My people are aware of the situation," Cragen said. "And ready to work with you."

"But not necessarily happy," Alex said. "Just let them know we just want to catch the bad guys. "We aren't looking for headlines."

"Unfortunately," Ross said. "Headlines have a way of finding this squad."

Cragen nodded. "I'll let my people know that. I need to get back…"

"We'll be there ASAP," Alex said.

"Good," Cragen said. "Thank you, Detectives…Captain…I hope this is all an overreaction…Maybe young Mr. Flynn is already back home…"

"I'm sorry," Ross said as Cragen left. "I didn't want to give you a case for a while…especially a tough one that may be a political minefield." He addressed both Alex and Bobby, but both knew he spoke to Bobby. "You can say no."

Bobby stiffened. "I'm back," he said quietly. "That means I take whatever the job throws at me." He started to leave, but hesitated when he reached the office door. "But…thank you for the option, Captain."

He didn't see the worried looks that passed between his partner and his captain.

End Chapter One


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Olivia Benson frowned at the report in front of her.

"Ok, Liv?" Elliott Stabler asked as he passed by her desk.

"Yea." Olivia stretched her arms and legs. "Either the lights in here are getting worse, the print on these reports is getting smaller, or I need to start thinking about glasses."

Stabler smiled. "You can't need glasses. That'd mean I'll need them soon too."

Olivia returned the smile and resumed her study of the report. "George Flynn has a lot of enemies, real and imagined."

"With his opinions, I'm not surprised," Munch said dourly. "Some of his ideas were old in the Nineteenth Century."

"I'm afraid his stuff isn't part of my regular reading," Olivia said dryly.

"You and most of the American Psychological Association." George Huang looked up from the files he studied. "George Flynn hasn't been part of the establishment since he fought the APA's decision to remove the designation of homosexuality as a mental disorder. And that's made him a hero to some."

"Not on the list of approved headshrinkers, uh?" Stabler grinned.

"No," Huang said tensely. "But he's not just some maverick. Flynn holds on to ideas that have been completely discredited. His opinions on discipline and education are just this side of child abuse. In some of his writings and speeches, he's been just this side of racism. He claims to be a devout Catholic, but the New York Archdiocese had decried much of his work and tried to put as much distance as it can between it and him."

"And the Archdiocese of New York is a known bastion of liberalism," Munch said dryly. "Some of Flynn's statements would give even Pope Benedict the shivers."

"If he's such an extremist, why is he so popular?" Olivia asked.

"Because he yells louder than anyone else," Huang said forcefully. "And he gives people easy answers."

The detectives studied Huang; the psychiatrist rarely reacted to anything with so much emotion.

"Flynn," Huang said in answer to their attention. "Is the kind of person who gives psychology and psychiatry bad names. In defense of my profession, I can say that Flynn doesn't have any real credentials. He has a couple of honorary doctorates from small religious institutions, but no real degrees beyond a BA in Sociology."

"If he practices what he preaches," Munch said. "I understand why the kid ran away."

The detectives looked up as their captain, wearing his usual sorrowful expression, entered the office.

"Looks like trouble," Stabler said.

"Possibly," Cragen responded. "The Flynn case. The FBI is on standby to help, but won't be directly involved, at least not for right now."

Cragen's detectives visibly relaxed.

"But we will have two detectives from the Major Case Squad joining us," Cragen continued. "In response to Mr. Flynn's "requests"…and the "suggestion" of the Chief of Detectives."

Just as quickly as they had relaxed, the SVU detectives became tense.

"People," Cragen said calmly. "The Major Case detectives don't want to intrude. They don't want to invade our turf. They know this is politics. And I won't reject the help."

"All right," Olivia said in resignation. "Who are they?"

Cragen paused for a beat. "Alex Eames and Robert Goren."

Stabler snorted. "Great…the department's fair-haired boy of the hour."

"Elliott," Cragen warned. "Neither of them volunteered for this…Neither of them seem to be glory seekers…I liked them both when I met them."

"I know Alex," Olivia said. "Good cop…good person…If Goren is good enough for her, he's good enough for me."

Munch leaned back in his chair. "Fin worked with him in Narcotics. He's always said good things about him."

"Anyone who could get a confession from Mark Ford Brady." Huang shook his head. "Goren has done some remarkable things."

"Ok, ok," Stabler said and raised his hands in surrender. "I'll reserve judgment on Goren."

"For about five minutes," Olivia said wryly.

"Ten," Stabler said. "I promise at least ten."

"I welcome the friendly atmosphere," Cragen said. "But let's try to be ready for our visitors when they get here."

Olivia turned to the transcript of her interview with Maria Flynn, soon to be ex-wife of George and mother of Michael. "Claims her son wouldn't run away…and most kids don't run away," Olivia thought. Her gut and the evidence told her Michael Flynn was not one of the rare cases where a kid had run away.

She sensed him before she saw him. Olivia wasn't certain what alerted her to his arrival in the squad room. It may have been the sudden quiet in the room, or perhaps she saw him or the reactions of others reflected off computer screens. If she were less logical, she thought she might have reacted to his aura. For whatever reason, Olivia turned. She later regretted that she missed Alex Eames' presence at his side, but in those first few moments Bobby Goren overwhelmed Olivia's senses. He was big—tall and solid—and his hair full of graying and undisciplined curls. For all of his physical size, he moved gracefully, almost as if he were apologizing for taking up so much space. Olivia noted these qualities later; it was Bobby Goren's eyes that seized her attention. They were deep, dark chocolate pools framed by impossibly long eyelashes. In the brief moment his gaze settled on her, Olivia saw a history of pain and a strange connection with this man. Goren blinked, and Olivia, unable to bear those eyes' scrutiny, turned away. She stared at her desk and desperately tried to keep her heart from pounding. "Good Lord," she thought. "What was that? Alex told me some women had strong reactions to Goren, but I'm no naïve kid. That hasn't happened to me since…since ever…"

Slightly more in control, Olivia watched Cragen introduce Alex and Goren to the other detectives and George Huang. Elliott was wary but professional, Munch quiet and uncommitted, Huang curious. Cragen turned to Olivia.

"Olivia and I know each other," Alex said.

"Yea." Olivia stood. "We occasionally meet with other girls to complain about the department…"

"And partners," Alex smiled.

"That," Stabler said genially. "Must be some discussion. I bet Liv wins that competition."

Olivia felt relieved and pleased at Elliott's relaxed attitude. He could be very territorial, but Alex and Goren certainly weren't acting like invaders. At Stabler's words, a quick smile crossed Goren's face. "I doubt it…Eames usually wins that contest without breaking a sweat," he said.

His voice mesmerized Olivia. It was low, gentle, slightly hesitant, and she was stunned that something that hypnotic and tender came from such a giant of a man.

"Detective Olivia Benson," Cragen said. "Detective Robert Goren."

"Bobby, if you haven't already guessed," Alex said cheerfully.

Bobby turned his attention on her, and her heart again began to pound so loudly that Olivia thought everyone in the building must hear it. Her mouth filled with dry cotton, and she could only manage a nod at Bobby.

Odafin Tutuola's arrival saved her from deeper embarrassment. "Goren!" Fin cried in delight as he strode in the office. "Whatcha doing here? Slumming with your poorer brothers?" Fin reached Bobby and wrapped him in a fierce hug. Bobby hesitated awkwardly for only a moment, and then warmly returned the hug.

"No slumming," Bobby said as he disentangled from Fin's grasp. "Just doing what the Brass wants…"

"Wow, Fin, this guy knows you and is willing to come work with us anyway," Munch said dryly. "Goren must be ok."

In the brief laughter that followed, Olivia was just close enough to hear Bobby whisper to Fin. "Thanks, Fin, for coming to the funeral…and everything."

"No problem, man," Fin replied.

"I take it I don't need to introduce you," Cragen said.

"We know each other from Narcotics," Fin explained. "This guy could run an operation…" He shook his head. "I'm sure there're guys sitting in cells who still don't know how they got there. This guy is the best."

His face slightly flushed, Bobby stared at his feet. "Well…you were no slouch, Fin. It was a good team."

"What Bobby said…about the Brass," Alex said, sensing her partner needed to be rescued from all the praise rained on him. "We know this is a political thing. We know you can handle this. But we're here and we want to help." She glanced around the room, stopping when her view met Cragen's. "I'm sorry, Captain," she said firmly. "If I've said too much…"

"You didn't," Cragen said warmly. "You made the point I want to. Maybe a little more bluntly."

"She always this honest?" Fin asked Bobby.

Bobby smiled warmly and proudly at Alex. "Yea…and then some…"

"We shouldn't have any problems, then," Stabler said. "All this manpower should be able to find Michael Flynn."

"Personpower, Elliott," Olivia said lightly. She walked past Bobby, and caught a whiff of his subtle cologne. He smiled at her apologetically as he stepped out of her way, and a long forgotten warmth started behind Olivia's heart and spread through her body. She tried to return the smile, and felt as if she were thirteen again and trying to impress Tommy Valando at her junior high dance. She was sure the results were ghastly.

"Yea, Stabler." Enormous relief swept over Olivia as she heard Alex's voice. "Don't discriminate against half of the population."

Stabler smiled at Alex. "I meant manpower as a generic term."

"Don't get in a snark war with Eames," Bobby said. "She's the master."

"I'll take that as an apology, Stabler," Alex said genially. "And just to show there's no hard feelings, Bobby and I'll take the grunt work and look at those files from the FBI."

Olivia caught the affectionate and worried look Alex gave her partner as they settled at two desks with the files. "She's worried about him," Olivia thought. She remembered the rumors that spread through the department at the break in the Brady case. Fin quickly squelched any comments he heard that suggested Goren had gotten the confession because he'd gotten in Brady's head. "He's got other ways," Finn said. "And the guy's just buried his Mom…I'd say he did good work…Give him a break." Olivia studied Alex and Bobby. "She thinks he's back too soon," she thought. "And," Olivia noted Bobby's gaunt face and the dark circles beneath his eyes. "She may be right."

The Major Case detectives spent the rest of the day working quietly at the two desks in a corner of the office; the SVU detectives were barely aware of their presences aside from an occasional request for a file or help with a computer. Eames cheerfully joined a run for food for lunch, while Goren remained fascinated by the files on the desk in front of him. Olivia's attention remained on the witness statements in the Flynn case, few and largely helpful they were. When she raised her weary eyes from one statement she saw Bobby deep in study of the materials before him. He started, reached for another file, opened it, studied it, closed it, and reached for another. He repeated this process several times, a worried frown deepening on his face.

Olivia stood, stretched, and walked over to Bobby. "What's wrong?" she asked and wondered why it was so difficult to keep her voice from shaking.

Bobby looked up at her and blinked in surprise. "Sorry," he said after a moment. "I…I…was a bit lost…" Olivia felt herself getting lost again in those dark eyes. "It…it's…" He pointed at the files. "Here…Do you…What do you see here?"

Olivia sat carefully in the chair next to him and struggled, not entirely successfully, to ignore her body's physical closeness to Bobby. She concentrated on the files Bobby showed her. He made few comments beyond pointing to a few names or numbers. A terrible dread rose in her.

"I see it…A pattern of disappearances…" she said flatly.

Bobby nodded. "No disrespect," he said softly. "But I'd like Eames to take a look at it…"

"I'd like Elliott to see it too," Olivia answered as she stood.

Bobby nodded in understanding. Before he and Olivia could reach Alex and Elliott, a storm blew into the office. Cragen moved quickly to intercept it, but it managed to reach the middle of the squad room.

"What are you doing to find my boy?" the storm demanded. "Are there more detectives working on the case? Is the FBI involved?"

"Mr. Flynn," Cragen began in his most conciliatory tone.

"DOCTOR," the storm said through clenched teeth.

"So that's "Doctor" Flynn," Alex whispered to Munch.

"With all his sweetness and understanding," Munch whispered back.

"I wanted the Department's best," Flynn said angrily. "All I see here…" His eyes lighted on Bobby, who attempted to disappear into a corner, a nearly impossible task given his and the corner's relative size.

"You," Flynn said in the voice of a man who was used to his commands being obeyed without question. "You're new. Who are you?"

Alex, who knew her partner, felt the anger and tension rise in Bobby; the SVU detectives saw only his calm control.

Bobby looked to Cragen. The SVU captain was his superior in this situation, and his brief experience with the man gave him no reason to undermine Cragen's authority. And, while he sympathized with Flynn's situation, the man's arrogance made Bobby ill-inclined to give the man any satisfaction.

Cragen, quietly grateful for Bobby's acknowledgment of his superiority, moved to stand between Flynn and the detective. "Dr. Flynn," the captain said. "This is Detective Eames." He nodded at Alex. "And Detective Goren…"

"Goren?" Flynn stared at Bobby. "The detective who got the confession from that serial killer?"

Bobby stared at his feet. "Detective Eames had a great deal to do with it…and many others…"

Flynn ignored him. "Good…Maybe something will get done around here…Are you in charge of the case now?"

The SVU detectives stiffened, and Cragen's expression darkened. Bobby moved to defend his colleagues.

"No," he said calmly, although Alex sensed the anger beneath his words. "Detective Eames and I are assisting Captain Cragen and his detectives. Not that they need it…They're the best…Let's be honest here, Mr. Flynn…Detective Eames and I are here at the Chief of Detective's request. But these detectives do not need our help."

George Flynn was not used to contradictions. He flared at Bobby's refusal to address him as "Doctor", and stared openmouthed at the detective's comments.

Bobby stepped closer to Flynn. "These detectives…and Eames and I…will do everything…EVERYTHING…to find your son…But you have to let us do our job…And to tell us the truth about what happened before your son disappeared."

Elliott and Olivia shared a surprised look. The SVU detectives strongly suspected George Flynn wasn't telling truth about what happened between himself and his son, but they hadn't expressed these concerns to Goren and Eames.

"I know," Bobby continued in a slow, hypnotic voice. "You're concerned about your son…about Michael…and about your reputation…but have to decide what's more important…"

Flynn reddened. "You think…you think you know anything about me…about my son…about psychology…"

"I know what the facts tell me," Bobby replied. "They tell a story of a boy who's run away before…Your wife…likely soon to be ex-wife…says your son is afraid of you…That he feels that you use him…"

"She…she's a vindictive woman," Flynn spluttered.

"Possibly." Bobby's eyes bore into Flynn. "But his teachers…his friends…They say the same things…"

Flynn stared at Bobby. The man was clearly not used to being contradicted, let alone analyzed.

"Your son's life may depend on what you tell us…We've already lost over twenty-four hours," Bobby said firmly. "You've probably heard that the first forty-eight hours are crucial in solving a case…That's particularly true in a missing person case." His tone and face grew softer. "I believe you love Michael…The facts also indicate that…That you care about him. I may not agree with your ideas, but recognize that your intentions are good…You want your son…and others…to be good, strong men…"

The swagger and arrogance left Flynn. He looked ready to collapse, and Fin rolled a chair to him; the distraught man slumped in it.

"I…" He stared up at Bobby; the two men might have been the only people in the room. "So many people look up to me…Believe me…What would they think…If they knew…" Flynn's head fell into his hands. "Michael isn't a bad boy…I've probably been too hard on him."

Bobby grasped another chair and rolled it across from Flynn. The detective sat carefully in it and leaned forward so that only inches separated him from Flynn. They looked like a priest and a confessor.

"I believe you," Bobby said softly. A terrible silence descended in the squad room. "Everything in Michael's record shows a boy who's trying to be good…to do the right thing…His grades are good…He's an altar boy…He plays baseball and runs track…"

"When," Olivia wondered. "Did he get all that information? Did he read the file that quickly and remember it?" She glanced at Elliott, who was clearly as impressed as she was by Goren's knowledge and use of it.

Flynn gazed desperately at Bobby. "I believe in what I write and say," he said. "But…but reality isn't…The people who read me…Listen to me…If they find out that my own son…" His head fell back into his hands. "What have I done? What have I done to my son?"

"You have a chance to undo things…to make things right," Bobby said. "Tell us the truth."

Words tumbled from George Flynn in a great rush. He described an increasing number of arguments between father and son, many of them related to the increasingly explosive relationship between George and Maria Flynn. The day of Michael's disappearance the father and son had a furious argument about the boy's growing reluctance to continue as an altar boy at the local parish. The last time Flynn saw his son Michael stormed out of the house to go to a baseball game. His parting words to his father were a furious request that George Flynn not come to the game and stay out of his life.

"He never got to that game," Stabler whispered to Alex as Bobby talked to Flynn. "But Flynn never told us about his last conversation with Michael."

"We've lost a lot of time because of that," Fin groused.

Flynn's confessional was over, and he stumbled out of the office. Bobby stood for a moment rubbing the back of his neck and walked back to the other detectives. Olivia felt a desire to hug him; glancing at Alex, Olivia guessed she felt the same.

"I think he's finally telling the truth," Bobby said wearily. "He's very conflicted…torn between his faith…his ambition…his love for his son."

Munch shook his head. "The way he treats his son? He loves him?"

Bobby leaned on a chair. "Yea…He doesn't know how to express it…But I think he does love him…"

"Well, at least you've gotten Flynn to tell us the truth," Stabler said admiringly.

"That's my partner," Alex said warmly.

Bobby gave her a grateful look, but frowned. "There's…there's something…" He turned toward Olivia.

"Yea," she said. "Just before Flynn burst in…" She strode to the computer where Bobby had worked through the day. "Elliott…Munch…take a look at this…"

The detectives leaned in front of the computer screen. Shadows appeared in their eyes as they took in the information.

"They see it, too," Olivia said grimly to Bobby, who nodded sadly in agreement.

"Eames," he said. "Could you…"

Alex nudged in between Elliott and Munch; within a few moments, the same shadows appeared and darkened in her eyes.

"What have you got?" Cragen returned from escorting a chastened George Flynn out of the building.

"There's a pattern, Captain," Munch said. He looked at Bobby. "You found it, Goren…You should tell him…"

Bobby sighed. "I was checking for similar past cases," he said reluctantly. "I cast the net pretty wide…and found several cases…I used some different sources…including what the FBI gave us…and I found several cases…missing boys between twelve and sixteen…I think all were Catholic…many altar boys…disappeared on their way to or from a baseball game."

Shivers ran up and down the detectives' backs. George Huang gave voice to their fear.

"You think we may have a pattern," he said deliberately. "That the cases are related."

Bobby stared out a window; no one in the room thought he was examining the scenery. "I hope I'm wrong," he said softly. "But yes…"

END Chapter Two


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

"Not bad," Alex said quietly as she maneuvered the SUV through traffic. "One day back, and you've uncovered a series of disappearances." She looked quickly at her partner. He sat in the passenger seat and stared out the window. "Bobby…really…great work today…Your interview with Flynn…Finding that patter of the missing boys…It was great work…"

Bobby turned to her. "It…it felt good…to be back at work…but…but…" He looked out the window again.

"Hard to deal with Flynn?" Alex concentrated on the road, but listened carefully to Bobby.

"Well," he said ruefully. "He is the type that can push my buttons…Were you worried about me?"

Alex was slightly surprised by the bluntness of the question. "Yea," she said after a beat. "But not just about the case…I am worried about your coming back so soon…But…you were great today."

"Thanks," Bobby said. "I…I gotta admit…This isn't the case I would've picked to come back to…"

"Do you think they'll keep us on the case? Maybe the Brass will realize that SVU can handle it?" Alex asked.

Bobby considered the question for a moment. "I…I don't know…I've given up trying to guess the Brass' thinking. And…and I'd like to stay with the case, but…but…It's not the type of case either of us handles particularly well…"

"Yea," Alex agreed.

Bobby shook his head. "The SVU people…They're great…It must be really heard to do that job…And they were very open…"

Alex nodded her head. "I like Fin…You're right…He's a good guy and cop."

"I'd like to work more with Huang…He know his stuff…Munch is an interesting guy."

"Olivia Benson told me that Cragen is a great captain," Alex said. "And he's living up to that."

"You know Benson well?" Bobby asked tentatively.

"Another good person and cop." She smiled. "Interested, Goren?"

Bobby reddened slightly, and Alex felt a pang of shame. At this point in his life Bobby certainly didn't need even the smallest bit of trouble. They occasionally teased each other about their respective romantic lives, but both Alex and Bobby fought mightily to keep their professional and private lives separate. In recent months, Bobby's fight had been a failure, and Alex knew his romantic life was nonexistent.

"I…I…" he stammered. "She…she's very nice…but someone like her…There must be someone…"

So, Alex thought. He is interested. "There isn't anyone," she said gently. "Olivia's complained to me that she doesn't meet a great class of guys in her work." They were close to One Police Plaza. "I'm not teasing you, Bobby…She was checking you out."

"Uh," Bobby said. "Trying to play matchmaker, Eames?" He tried for a light tone, but couldn't hide the yearning in his voice.

Alex drove carefully into the parking garage. "Maybe," she admitted. "Be nice if two of my friends could find some happiness." She eased the SUV into a spot. "But…I don't mean to intrude, Bobby," she said softly.

"It's ok," Bobby said. He shook his head. "I can't imagine…If she's heard anything about me…"

"Olivia's not like that," Alex declared.

"It doesn't matter," Bobby muttered. Alex could scarcely hear him over the loud echoes in the garage. "I can't be interested in anyone…" He unbuckled his seat belt. "C'mon…we need to report to Ross…"

Alex again tried to subtly study Bobby during the elevator ride to the office. She hadn't intended to intrude so far into his life, and was surprised he'd allowed her to get so far. Alex knew that Olivia Benson's life wasn't without its troubles, and vaguely hoped that Bobby and Olivia were two souls who might heal each other.

"Don't," Alex thought. "More like destroy each other…Even if…"

Ross met them at the Major Case Squad door. "George Flynn called the Chief of Detectives," he began.

"Great, Goren," Alex said. "First day back, and you've got the Brass on us."

Bobby gave her a guilty look.

"Nothing like that," Ross said smoothly as he walked with Bobby and Alex to their desks. "Whatever you said to him, Mr. Flynn was impressed by it. The Chief said he's never seen a man's attitude change so quickly. Keep this up, Detective, and the Chief will try to promote you."

Bobby looked stricken.

"Don't worry, Detective," Ross said. "He'd have to fight me. Cragen also called me…Said you found a pattern of disappearances…"

"Yea," Bobby said softly.

Ross studied him for a moment. "Cragen was very impressed by both of you…He'd appreciate your continued help with this…If you're willing."

Alex glanced at Bobby.

"You don't have to do this," Ross said quietly. "There's plenty of work for you here…but…" He spoke to both detectives, but his words were clearly directed to Bobby. "I have to admit this is a high profile and priority case…"

"I…I'd like to stay with it…If I can be of help…" Bobby looked at Alex. "If Eames…"

"Don't worry, Bobby," Alex smiled. "We're a package deal."

"That's understood," Ross said.

"C'mon, partner," Alex said. "Let's get our stuff together and get back to SVU."

He was terribly quiet during the drive.

"Bobby," Alex said cautiously. "Remember…We're helping other detectives…You're doing a good job…"

He titled his head slightly, the only indication he'd heard her words. "I hope," he finally said. "That I'm wrong…"

Both Alex and Bobby knew he was rarely wrong. As the day continued, it became increasingly and painfully clear that Bobby was right about the pattern of disappearances. Twelve to fourteen year old boys were missing from New York City and areas in New Jersey, Connecticut, and New York State near the city. The disappearances dated back at least twenty-five years and had escaped notice because of the fluctuating state of communications among law enforcement agencies. Several departments wrote the boys off as runaways. The boys on the list were all from Catholic families; all played baseball; and all of their families were in trouble. They all went missing in the late spring or early summer, just as the baseball season began. The boy who disappeared just before Michael Flynn was Anthony Morelli, fourteen years old, from one of Newark, New Jersey's few finer neighborhoods, until recently a good student and an altar boy at a parish that shared his first name. Problems between his mother and father had led to recent slips in both his academic and religious devotion, but he remained faithful to baseball. He didn't come home after a game in which he made several good defensive plays and went two for four at the plate. Before Anthony was Edward Quang, twelve years old, the son of a mother who went to Mass every day and a father who was something less than a saint. The family tensions had led to an angry split and an angry son. Edward never made it to his baseball game.

"It can't be a coincidence," Bobby muttered. "There're too many similarities about these cases…"

Stabler raised his head from the witness interviews he studied. "I can't argue with you about that, Goren. But where did these kids go? If someone is targeting kids like these, how is he finding them?"

Bobby rubbed his eyes. "I don't know…"

Seated across the desk from Bobby, Alex recognized the frustration in his voice. "Bobby," she said gently. "No one expects you to solve this at once."

"Yea," Olivia said in support. "It's impressive enough that you uncovered this."

Fin and Munch appeared in the squad room; they'd gone in search of the witnesses in the case of another boy, Patrick O'Neill, who'd gone missing some three years before.

"Not much luck," Munch said darkly.

"We found the field where Patrick was last seen," Fin said. "And one of his friends…He's a volunteer with the Police League team…But he didn't have anything to help us…"

"Police league," Bobby murmured. "Police…" He reached for several papers. "These kids…the teams they were on…Sponsored by…" His eyes flew over the papers.

With a sense of dread, the other detectives read the reports before them.

"All of them," Bobby said. "The games…the teams…They were sponsored by the local police…"

"It doesn't mean that a cop is involved," Alex said quickly, to calm both her colleagues and her own nerves.

"Could be anyone involved with the leagues," Fin added.

Their words did little to dispel the tension in the air.

Bobby sat for several minutes in deep thought; his head rested in his hand, his elbow on the desk. "Not necessarily a cop…Couldn't be just involved with a local team…" he murmured. He spun his chair to look for Alex and found not only her sympathetic eyes but also Olivia's. For a moment he was stunned by the discovery that a cop other than Alex seemed willing to listen to him.

"What is it?" Alex asked. She recognized the signs of a Goren revelation and blamed the presence of other for his hesitation.

"If the baseball league is the connection," Bobby said, leaning forward in his chair and waving a hand to press his point. "It would have to be someone in the upper levels of the organization…someone with ties to all of the local leagues where the boys played…Someone on a regional level."

"Which means it might not be a cop," Stabler said tensely.

"Yea," Bobby nodded. "We need to check the records of the leagues and their administrators…See if any names are common to them…"

Olivia and Alex tapped on their computers even as Bobby spoke.

"And go back," he continued. "With these cases…to look for this…and other ties…"

"Maybe a priest," Munch suggested.

"I…I don't think that's it." Bobby stood and began pacing. "They're too scattered…Cover too many dioceses and archdioceses. I think that link would be clearer…We certainly want to check that angle…But the baseball one…It works…"

Cragen, looking as if several pounds of additional weight had been placed on his shoulders, emerged from his office. "George Flynn is on TV," he said.

Munch turned on the TV to the local news channel. George and Maria Flynn faced a mob of reporters and cameras in front of their Upper West Side apartment. Maria Flynn was in the midst of uttering a fervent plea for her son's return. For once, George Flynn appeared content to play a supporting role. Maria Flynn finished her appeal, and George Flynn made a few evidently sincere remarks in support.

"You may have reached him, Goren," Munch commented. "He's acting like a father, not a celebrity."

The reporters unleashed a barrage of questions when Flynn ended his remarks.

"Keep your mouth shut, Flynn," Stabler muttered. "Don't blow it…"

Flynn turned to the cameras. "My wife and I greatly appreciate the efforts of the New York City Police Department and the FBI to find our son. I know that the best people are working on this case. The NYPD has placed Detective Robert Goren on it, and I am very pleased…" The rest of Flynn's remarks were lost in the reporters' shouts. The detectives turned to Bobby, who stood unhappily in the middle of the office. Alex moved instinctively closer to him.

"I…I…" Bobby rubbed the back of his neck with a large paw. "I'm sorry about that…I…"

"You don't have to apologize, Bobby," Alex said firmly. "You didn't start or ask for this." She looked around the room to accentuate her words.

Bobby's obvious distress moved Olivia; she glanced around the room to see if her colleagues also saw it. "Yea…don't worry about it," she said. "We know you don't want this kind of attention."

"And since it's coming from George Flynn, probably not the praise, either," Finn added.

Gratitude shown in Bobby's eyes. "Uh…yea…If you're judged by your friends, I…I don't think I want George Flynn to be one of them."

Munch flicked off the TV. Cragen frowned as the screen went black. "This is only going to increase the pressure on us. Goren…this theory of yours…Will it help find Michael Flynn?"

Bobby rubbed the back of his neck again. "I honestly don't know. But he certainly fits the profile of the victims and the pattern of the disappearances."

"We obviously need more information…But I think Bobby has got something," Olivia said firmly. Bobby turned to her, surprise and gratitude in his eyes.

"All right," Cragen said. "Let's get to work…The clock is ticking…"

"So," Alex sighed and turned to Stabler. "Where do you guys order your Chinese food?"

Bobby barely touched the food when it arrived, even after Alex assured him that it was better than the usual fare brought to Major Case. It was late, and all of the detectives had already worked long, hard hours. The work continued as late night gave way to early morning. It was grunt work, requiring the checking of long lists against others and the examinations of old interviews and witness statements.

Alex yawned and stretched. "We still don't have all the records we need," she said wearily. "And we're going to have to try to find some of the witnesses and interview them again."

Olivia nodded sympathetically. "And we still don't have all of the reports on the disappearances."

Alex sighed. "And time is something we…and Michael…don't have…" She rubbed her eyes. Michael Flynn was becoming more real and human to her as time went by.

"Eames…" Bobby's excited voice rang in Alex's ears. She recognized the tone that always heralded some discovery. "Look at this." Bobby shoved several lists before her. The lists contained the names of official and administrators involved in the upper level of the New York City area's police sponsored youth baseball leagues. Bobby had highlighted several names appearing on more than one list.

"I think," he said, trying to temper his excitement. "This might be a start…If we can narrow down the names on these lists…And if the leagues and teams have websites…with pictures…"

Alex nodded. Olivia, who glanced over her shoulder, turned to gather the other detectives. By the time she returned with Stabler, Bobby and Alex were searching for websites. It was a start; they were still searching for a needle in a haystack, but now they at least knew what haystack to look in and what kind of needle to look for. But it was still hard, numbing, painstaking work. Cragen finally emerged from his office where he had also been examining files and records; he surveyed his ragged troops.

"I'm headed to the crib for a few hours of sleep," he announced. "And I strongly suggest that you all do the same."

Alex stretched and yawned.

"Just a warning, Eames," Munch said as he passed her. "We don't have the luxurious accommodations of Major Case."

"You've obviously never seen the accommodations at Major Case," Alex responded dryly. "C'mon, Bobby…Let's get some shut eye."

"H-m-m?" Bobby was lost in his study of the screen before him.

Alex strode to his desk. "Goren," she said firmly. "Sleep…You know…you lie down and close your eyes and the world goes away for a while. Sleep…now…" She reached to shut off Bobby's computer, but a large hand stopped her.

"Just…just a few more minutes," Bobby pleaded. "I…I promise…"

Alex hesitated. She desperately wanted Bobby to get some sleep. Her body begged for it, and she could only imagine that he was in even greater need than her. She wanted to tell him that it was too soon for him to press so hard on a case, but she didn't wish to challenge him in front of other detectives.

Cragen came to her aid. "Detective," he said patiently. "You're no good if you're exhausted…Get some sleep…"

Bobby wiped a large paw across his face. "Just a few moments…I promise…please…Captain…Eames…"

Cragen glanced at Alex, who shrugged in defeat.

"All right," the captain conceded. "But only a few minutes. Don't make me order you to get some rest."

The other detectives filed out of the squad room.

"C'mon, Alex," Olivia said. "I'll show you where the lavish girls' locker room is."

Alex hesitated. "Just a sec." She looked at her partner. "Bobby…"

"I…I promise…I'll get some sleep…I just want to check a few things."

Alex sighed. Every cell in her body screamed for sleep; she lacked the energy to argue with Bobby. She had to admit that he was at the top of his form in this case. He seemed all right.

"Are you ok?" she asked, looking him in the eyes.

"Yes," he answered immediately and calmly. "Better than I've been in some time, actually." He looked away for a moment, and then returned to steadily meet her gaze. "But…thank you for…thank you."

"All right," Alex said reluctantly. "But if you don't get some sleep…"

Bobby smiled. "I know. I'll face the wrath of Eames."

Alex followed Olivia out of the squad room. As the two detectives left, Olivia turned to look at Bobby Goren. The lights on his desk and from his computer were two of the few sources of illumination in the room. The pale light shone on his face. His face was as pale as the light, and his dark eyes shone in bright contrast. As exhausted as she was, Olivia still felt a dull ache in her heart. She wanted to wrap her arms around Bobby, to tell him that he wasn't the only one responsible for saving the world, or even a small piece of it. She fought the impulse, and went down the stairs.

END Chapter Three


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Olivia woke with a start. She never slept well in the crib and knew few cops who did. The bunk beds boasted hard, thin mattresses and little room. The atmosphere was dark and dank, and only the most exhausted tried to sleep there. During her brief rest, dreams flooded Olivia's mind, including vague images of Bobby Goren. Olivia sighed, stretched and rose from the narrow bed. Alex Eames, the state of sleep taking several years from her face, lay deeply asleep in the bunk next to Olivia, who enviously guessed that Alex must be one of those lucky people who could sleep anywhere. Olivia slipped on her shoes and moved cautiously down the long rows of bunk beds. The other SVU detectives were scattered throughout the room. Fin sprawled over one; Munch's snored in a corner; Cragen curled in a bed not far from the entrance; and Olivia could just make out Elliott's head edging out from under a blanket. She saw no signs of Goren. Before they fell into their beds, Alex told her with a mixture of irritation and admiration that Bobby probably wouldn't come near the crib. "He doesn't sleep that well at the best of times," Alex said. "And this isn't the best of times…"

Olivia stumbled into the women's locker room, a small, dingy place that spoke of the fact that the NYPD was still dominated by males. After using the bathroom, she considered returning to her bed, but a glance at her watch revealed that the others would be rising soon. "Might as well beat the rush," Olivia thought and headed to the shower. She emerged a few minutes later, the fog in her mind slightly cleared. She ran her fingers through her damp hair and resolved to make it to her apartment for a change of clothes before the day was over. She decided against makeup and climbed the stairs to the main squad room.

The rich, warm smell of coffee reached her before she entered the room. She saw Bobby sitting in front of his computer. Files, reports, and papers covered the desk on which it rested. Aside from his loosened tie and his rolled up sleeves, Bobby looked nearly the same as when Olivia left him several hours earlier. He was the only person in the squad room, and the computer screen's glow gave his skin an eerie, translucent glow and made him look like an avenging spirit. Olivia moved towards the source of the wonderful coffee aroma. At some point in the night someone—almost certainly Bobby—had made coffee, good coffee. She gratefully sipped the strong, rich liquid as she approached him.

"Hey," she said softly.

He didn't immediately respond.

"Uh…good morning?" Olivia said slightly louder.

"Uh…yea…It's morning?" He roused from his deep study. "There's…oh…you found the coffee…"

"Yes…thank you. It's the best I've tasted in this place for a long time…Maybe forever." She sat in a chair next to his desk. "Did you get any rest?" She hoped the question didn't sound like an accusation.

"Uh…I kinda lost track of time…I…I don't sleep well in strange places…Not to say that the crib here…I mean…It's strange to me…" He blinked.

His awkwardness charmed Olivia. "It's ok…Our crib IS a pretty strange place."

He favored her with a shy smile, and Olivia again felt that warmth grow behind her heart. "I got lost in the work," Bobby said. "And by the time I realized what time it was…Making coffee seemed a better idea."

"I'm not sure Alex will agree with you," Olivia said gently.

"I'm sure you're right," Bobby replied ruefully. "But I may have narrowed things down a little…Here…"

The two detectives studied the records for several minutes. Bobby had accomplished considerably more than narrowing things down a little; he'd discovered a dozen men who were officials in the upper echelons of the police leagues who frequented different games and teams in the area of the city.

"I haven't checked them completely," Bobby apologized. "And I'm not sure if all or any of them fit the time period of the disappearances."

"You've been up all night and this is all you came up with," Olivia laughed.

"Maybe I should've gone for the caffeine earlier," Bobby answered. He felt comfortable with Olivia, a rare occurrence for him with someone he'd known for so short a time.

"Do we know who was the first boy to go missing?" she asked.

"I think…" Bobby reached across the desk for a file, and brushed against Olivia's arm. He flushed slightly and awkwardly handed her the file. "Uh…Sorry…"

She took a deep breath and cautiously placed a hand on Bobby's arm. "It's ok."

"I…uh…think," Bobby said nervously. "That…that this may be the first."

"Anthony Genoa," Olivia read from the file.

"Yea." His nervousness left as Bobby discussed the case. "Fifteen. Disappeared after a baseball game in Little Italy…" He lowered his eyes. "Uh…while you check this out…I think…If it's ok…I might grab a shower…"

"Sure you don't want to get some sleep?"

He shook his head. "Not enough time."

Bobby's move to the shower appeared to be the signal for the other detectives to emerge from the crib. A bleary-eyed Cragen came first, fiddling with his tie as he head to his office.

"There's coffee," Olivia pointed. "And it's good. Goren made it."

Cragen poured a cup and took a long drink. "That is good," he said in amazement. "Not only is he a first class detective, he makes good coffee." Cragen looked around the office. "Where is he? I didn't see him in the crib…"

"Shower."

"He didn't get any sleep." Cragen examined the papers on the desk Bobby used.

"No," Olivia admitted. "I'm not sure he wanted to try…"

"He all right?"

Olivia smiled. "Cap, you've already got a family of detectives…You want more?"

Cragen smiled. "Any one of you is a handful. I'm not looking for more responsibilities. But Goren's captain asked me to keep an eye on him. The Brady case took a lot out of him, and he's just back from leave to bury his mother."

"Yea," Olivia said. "I heard him thank Fin for coming to the funeral."

Munch, his red eyes hidden by dark glasses, lurched into the office. "Coffee…must have coffee," he murmured. He poured a cup and took a long drink. "This…is…not…the…usual…stuff." He took another drink. "This…is good." He stared at his cup in amazement.

Olivia struggled not to laugh. "Goren made it. He also did a lot of work last night."

"Captain," Munch said gravely as he sat at his desk. "You have my permission to make Goren and Eames part of SVU."

"Sorry," Cragen said. "I'm afraid Captain Ross would put up a fight."

"Hey, what's this talk about transfers?" Alex said as she walked to the coffee. "Is this fresh?" she asked eagerly.

"Yea," Munch said. "Made by your partner…and the best stuff we've had for a long time."

"Ah," Alex said after taking a drink. "My partner is a man of many talents…and speaking of him." She glanced around the squad room. "Is he actually getting some sleep?"

"'Fraid not," Olivia answered. She was reluctant to rat out Bobby, but even more reluctant to lie to Alex. "He was up when I got up here…He told me it was too late when he finally thought of sleep."

Alex frowned.

"He did narrow down the list of people we might want to consider," Olivia added quickly.

Alex walked to Bobby's desk and gazed balefully at the documents there. "Well, Bobby at least tries to get something out of his insomnia."

Bobby feebly attempted to sneak in the office, but Alex saw him. He glanced hopefully at Olivia. "Sorry, she knows," Olivia said.

"She would've found out," Bobby said as he poured a cup of coffee. "Last cup…I'll make more."

"Definitely," Munch said. "You definitely need to make more coffee."

Bewildered, Bobby turned to look at Munch.

"Don't worry, partner," Alex laughed. "Just make the coffee."

A cranky Stabler and Fin stumbled into the office.

"Damnit, Fin…You could've left me some hot water…"

"If you'd gotten your butt out of bed instead of complaining for five minutes, you'd have had plenty of hot water," Fin shot back. "Besides, there wasn't that much left when I got there."

Munch shook with trying not to laugh, and Alex and Olivia pointedly avoided each other's eyes.

"I'm sorry." Bobby's soft voice broke through the small storm. "I…I must have…"

Stabler ignored him. "And there's no damn coffee."

Bobby's guilt increased. "I'm sorry…I…I took the last cup…I'm making more…" He waved the empty pot in surrender.

"You take the hot water…You take the coffee…You…" Stabler fumed.

"May have broken the case," Olivia said. "And if you give him five minutes, he'll make you the best coffee you've ever had in this place." She turned to Bobby. "Don't mind Elliott. He's always cranky in the morning when he hasn't had his coffee."

"What's Fin's excuse?" Alex asked dryly.

"Fin," Munch replied in an equally dry tone. "Doesn't have an excuse. He's always cranky."

Fin glared at Munch.

"The coffee'll be ready soon," Bobby said apologetically.

Stabler sat heavily at his desk. "What about the case?"

"I'm glad you remembered we have a case," Cragen said. "While he made this wonderful coffee, Goren also managed to narrow our list of potential suspects."

Bobby reddened as he handed coffee to Stabler and Fin. "It…it's not that much…And I'm not sure how it will help us find Michael Flynn." He returned the pot to its resting place and sat at his temporary desk.

Stabler, appeased by his caffeine infusion, whispered to Fin. "He doesn't handle praise well, does he?"

"Never has." Fin shook his head. "Day he got his Medal of Honor you would've thought he was going to his execution."

Shiny pieces of metal rarely impressed Stabler, but he made an exception for a Medal of Honor. "I didn't know he had one of those…All I've heard is…"

"That he's a freak…a genius who doesn't feel anything…a guy who's one step away from being a perp…" Fin spoke softly, but raw anger filled his voice. "I've heard it all…And he doesn't deserve any of it…"

As Fin and Stabler spoke, Alex sat across from Bobby. "Looks like you did some good work…But I really wish you'd gotten some sleep."

Bobby stared at the computer screen. "I…I don't think I would've gotten any if I tried…"

"Are you ok?"

He didn't look at her, but his fingers ceased typing. "I…I'm ok…You don't… think I'm off on this?"

"No," Alex said firmly. "I think you're on to something…Everyone here thinks that."

"Thanks," he whispered.

"The only thing I'm worried about," she said cautiously. "Is that you take care of yourself. You get some rest, ok?"

Their eyes met briefly. "Ok," he said. "I promise."

"Ok…but know that I'll keep an eye on you."

"I'm counting on it."

End Chapter Four


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

The grunt work continued through the morning. Someone made a welcome run for bagels. The Chief of Detectives and George Flynn, far less welcome, appeared. A kind soul warned of both men's arrivals, and Bobby decided he needed to shave. The other detectives only slightly begrudged him his escape. All of them wanted to do the same, and Bobby's hard work and good coffee had created a lot of good will for him. George Huang, who arrived just before the unwanted guests, watched as Bobby ducked down the stairs.

"This isn't just a case of avoiding the Chief and Flynn, is it?" he asked Alex.

"Part of it is," Alex admitted. "But he's never dealt well with the politics…or praise…He just wants to do the job well."

"And the Brady case…" Huang's face was a placid sea.

Alex concentrated on the reports in front of her as she considered how much she could trust George Huang.

"It wasn't easy for anyone," she conceded.

"You're worried about Goren," Huang said.

Alex continued to stare at the reports. "Yes," she said. "I am…a little…I wish his first case back wasn't so high profile…with so much pressure." She chanced a look at Huang. He seemed sympathetic, and Olivia gave him an excellent report, but Alex was skeptical of psychiatrists, especially those who tried to read her and her partner. "I think he's doing well so far."

"His work is very impressive so far…enough that Cragen would like me to work with him to create a profile of who might be responsible for these disappearances," Huang said. "I'm guessing everyone doesn't think Michael Flynn was kidnapped for ransom."

"There's been no ransom requests…no demands…No signs that he ran away…We've checked with his grandparents, relatives, friends." Alex sighed. "And he fits the profile of the boys who disappeared."

"Could I check these files?" Huang pointed to Bobby's desk.

"Of course," Alex said.

After scanning the squad room for any sign of demanding brass or distraught parents, Bobby returned. Huang's presence didn't upset him; he welcomed the psychiatrist's aid.

"You didn't shave," Alex said as she brushed by Bobby, who looked at her in confusion.

"Shave," she said with a sad smile. "Remember?"

"Oh…that…I…I didn't have a razor…Uh…" He rubbed a hand over his face.

"It's ok, Bobby," Alex said gently. "You needed the break…No one minded."

"People." A weary Cragen called his team together and handed out assignments. He dispatched Munch and Fin to interview Michael Flynn's friends and teammates. Stabler and Olivia headed out to find and interview the families of some of the missing boys. Alex, with her police connections, continued searching for links with the police athletic leagues with the possibility of contacting its officials. The SVU captain allowed Bobby and Huang to continue their study of the victims and to develop a possible profile of who might be responsible for the disappearances; Cragen saw no reason to disturb what appeared to be a fruitful collaboration.

Cragen watched as Bobby and Huang returned to their work. They were an odd couple physically, almost as odd as Goren and Eames. Cragen was enormously grateful for the Major Case detectives who were more than living up to the best of their reputations. The captain saw no signs of the supposedly weird behavior Goren was legendary for. Both detectives were bending over backwards to accommodate the SVU team, and Cragen was pleased by his detectives' reaction to the duo. Goren certainly quieted George Flynn, and likely had uncovered a series of terrible crimes. Cragen found that he liked the big detective, but Dan Ross' warnings remained in his head. Ross praised Goren's talent and capacity for hard work, but cautioned his fellow captain not to let Eames get too far away from Goren. And Ross reminded Cragen that Goren had just buried his mother and that the Brady case had deeply wounded the detective.

"He's brilliant," Ross told Cragen. "But he won't stop. He'll work himself to exhaustion if he's not stopped, and he'll go after the perps at any cost, especially to him. That's one of the many reasons Eames is important. He listens to her, and she knows how to listen to him."

"I have a couple of detectives like that," Cragen said.

Cragen liked Alex Eames. He was predisposed to like her as a result of Olivia Benson's high opinion of her, but he found he liked her more the longer he knew her. The fact that Eames was not only Goren's partner but also his friend led Cragen to have a high opinion of Goren. Cragen watched as Goren left Huang to search for some files on Munch's desk. He approached George Huang.

"How's it going?" Cragen asked.

Huang, his eyes slightly red from studying reports, looked up. "I'm afraid," he said. "Goren's right…These disappearances are connected. The victims and the circumstances are just too much alike."

"Michael Flynn?"

"He fits."

Cragen nodded sadly. "What do you think of Goren?"

Huang leaned back in his chair. "Fascinating guy…terrific mind…But very guarded…And…I get the sense he's under a lot of strain that doesn't have anything to do with the case…I don't want to exaggerate…He's certainly not a danger to anyone with the possible exception of himself.

Cragen sighed. "Yes…that's what his captain told me…"

"You like him," Huang said.

Cragen nodded. "And Eames. They've been an enormous help…I think we're capable of dealing with this case, but we certainly wouldn't be this far.

They moved farther throughout the day. The detectives' work gave Cragen something positive to report to the Brass. Alex made especially good progress in moving through the maze of officials of the baseball leagues.

"I anticipate a long afternoon," she said, picking up her purse and notebook. "I'm going to talk with a lot of gung-ho cops…"

Bobby glanced up. "Want company?"

"No partner." Alex smiled at him. "I think you might scare these guys. Besides, you're doing great work here."

Bobby frowned. "I don't know about that…So much of the evidence in the early cases is lost…I wish I could talk to some of the witnesses…"

"Yes," Huang said from a nearby desk. "The first cases…knowing about them would be a big help…"

Olivia and Stabler entered the office. "I'll do the follow up with that detective in Brooklyn," Stabler said.

Olivia nodded and turned to approach the other detectives. "We had a productive morning…managed to speak to a couple of the families. They're glad someone is finally looking into the cases…They were treated as runaways…"

Bobby stared into space. "Yea…don't want to believe that it takes a lot to make a kid runaway…"

"We've got an address for Anthony Genoa's mom," Fin announced. "But Munch and I have a date in court this afternoon…"

"I can take it," Olivia said.

"Uh…if it's not an intrusion…" Bobby said shyly. "Could I come along…"

"Sure," Olivia said. "I'd welcome the help."

"Stabler…won't mind?"

Olivia smiled. "You don't have to get his permission, Bobby. Do I need yours, Alex?"

"Nope," Alex smiled. "Just bring him back in one piece."

Bobby returned her smile, and Alex felt the familiar, reassuring connection between them. "That can be a trick sometimes," he said wryly.

He quietly followed Olivia to her car and squeezed into the passenger seat. "Thanks for driving," he said shyly. "I usually don't…"

"You are an unusual guy…I have to fight Elliott for the wheel," Olivia said.

"I…I like to think…" Bobby said.

Bobby proved those words during the trip. He intently studied the Anthony Genoa case file. In spite of Alex's comments about Bobby's remarkable ability to concentrate, Olivia found his intensity disconcerting. She elected to give her new companion space.

"We're nearly there," she commented.

Bobby blinked. "Thanks for the warning…and the quiet." He shuffled papers into his binder. "We may not get a warm welcome…It looks like the initial investigation…It doesn't seem to have been very thorough…"

"Wrote him off as a runaway?"

Bobby nodded. "There's an uncle…a cop with Westchester County…" Bobby fumbled with some papers.

"Uh. Probably makes a lot more than we do," Olivia commented.

"Eames says we get the prestige of being New York's finest," Bobby said.

"Yea," Olivia said as she searched for a parking space. "I'd gladly give up some prestige for some salary."

"Eames says that too." He frowned. "Something…the uncle's name…It's familiar…"

Anthony Genoa's mother Rosa lived in a tiny, one bedroom apartment. Her daughter Sophia opened the door to the detectives. With her dark eyes and olive complexion, she would have been a beautiful woman if not for the grey in her hair and the worn, gaunt look on her face. A small woman with grey hair giving way to white and wearing a black dress fluttered behind Sophia.

"Tony," the older woman cried. "You have something about my Tony?"

Sophia looked at Olivia and Bobby with sad, resigned eyes. "You have something new?" She shuffled aside to let the detectives in the cramped living room.

The mother immediately clutched Bobby's sleeve. "You found him?" she asked desperately. "Even if he's in trouble…Please…I need to know…"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Genoa," Bobby said gently. "We haven't found him…But we may have some leads on what happened to him."

Mrs. Genoa pulled Bobby to sit next to her on the worn couch. "Sophia…Be a good girl…Get our guests some lemonade…" She turned to Bobby. "Tony loves my lemonade."

"We're fine, Mrs. Genoa," Olivia said, but the woman barely registered Olivia's presence. All of her attention was on Bobby.

"It's no trouble," Sophia said in a flat voice and moved to go to the kitchen.

Bobby caught Olivia's eye. She didn't have Alex's psychic connection with Bobby, but it took only a moment for her to catch his message.

"I'd welcome a glass of water," Olivia said. She followed Sophia into the kitchen.

"You don't want to chance the lemonade," Sophia said as she opened the refrigerator. "Even if Mom remembered to make it…" She shook an empty pitcher. "Which she didn't."

"Your mother's not well," Olivia said gently.

"Part of her died when Tony disappeared," Sophia said flatly. "Mom is old school…Church and family…She wanted Tony to be a priest…Tap water ok?"

Olivia nodded. "Fine."

Sophia handed Olivia a glass of water. "The other detective…He's probably just a little older than what Tony would be…" She folded her arms and looked at Olivia. "He's not alive…after all this time?"

"We don't know," Olivia said, handing the glass back to Sophia. "But…"

"There's not much of a chance," Sophia sighed.

"There's a good chance," Olivia said. "We may be able to find out what happened to him.

Sophia ran a hand through her long hair. "That would be something, I guess. I was five when Tony disappeared…Our family wasn't perfect before then. My Dad could be a real bastard, especially when he drank…But he always worked and put food on the table…He and my Mom fought, but I think they could've made it if…" She looked at Olivia. "Sure you don't want anything? You can sit, if you want."

Olivia sat at the tiny table. "I'm fine…Thank you."

"After Tony was gone…My parents…There wasn't any explosion…They stopped fighting…They just…stopped. My Dad drank more and more…Spent most of his times in bars…My Mom…She's still obsessed with Tony…Where we used to live…She kept his bedroom just like it was when he disappeared…Like it was some shrine…Even when my brother Paulie got older…He still had to sleep on the couch in the living room…She wouldn't let him have it…It had to be kept for Tony."

"Paulie?" Olivia asked. "He's younger than Tony?"

Sophia nodded. "He tried…really tried…to be a good kid…to take Tony's place…But how do you take the place of a saint? Especially when he wasn't a saint." She shrugged. "He helped take care of me…Really was more of a parent than my Mom and Dad…But it was too much for him…trying to be an adult…Trying to live another person's life…"

A terrible weight settled in Olivia's stomach.

"He was seventeen when he threw himself off a bridge," Sophia said matter of factly. "It was the date of Tony's disappearance." She looked at Olivia. "You probably think I'm pretty coldblooded about all this."

"Not necessarily," Olivia said gently.

"I got away," Sophia said. "I'm a nurse…and I've got a great husband. We live pretty close to here. I was determined that Tony's disappearance wasn't going to destroy everyone in my family." A furious look crossed Sophia's face. "My Mom didn't talk to me for six months when I wouldn't name our son after Tony, but I just kept plugging away. My husband and I finally got her to leave the old place, but we have to take her by there every two to three days just to make sure Tony hasn't come back. She kept nearly all of Tony's stuff. She's probably showing it to the other detective."

"What about your father?" Olivia asked.

"We lost touch with him…He drifted in and out…He died five years ago from liver disease." Sophia stared out the small window. "I guess you just learn to live with terrible things."

"Do you remember anything about that time?" Olivia asked softly.

"Not much," Sophia admitted. "I was five. It's pretty much a blur to me. I remember the police didn't seem to be much help. They thought he'd run away. It really upset my Mom and Dad…especially my Mom. She was really angry at her brother John. I don't think she's had much contact with him since then. He used to be around all of the time…He was really close to Tony."

"Why was she angry at her brother?"

"He was a cop…Not with the NYPD…but some place in the suburbs. I guess Mom thought he'd have some influence with the investigation…" Sophia rand her hand through her hair again. "Westchester County. He's still with that department."

Olivia fought a sense of excitement. "What's his name?"

"Bertelli. John Bertelli…It was kind of odd…Uncle John…Right before Tony disappeared…It wasn't that he was losing his faith…I don't think Tony was quite that deep…" She looked at Olivia with some embarrassment. "But he was questioning things…And he was involved with so much…And I think he knew he wasn't going to be a priest. I remember arguments about Tony wanting to quit being an altar boy." Sophia shrugged again. "He was fifteen…He didn't want to spend extra time in church. You know…" An idea struck her. "I think Uncle John was more upset by that than Mom and Dad. And after Tony disappeared, Dad got really mad. Uncle John said something about it being God's will. Dad said he didn't think God's will involved causing so much pain."

"Is your uncle still a cop?"

"Oh, yea…he's some assistant chief or officer or something," Sophia said casually. "Like I said…we're not in contact…Tony's disappearance hurt a lot of people…"

"Yea," Olivia said quietly.

"It…I don't know what it would mean to me…knowing what happened to him," Sophia said. "I'm used to…I've accepted that he's probably dead…and I don't know about Mom…You'd think she'd want to know…But I'm not sure she does…"

"Thank you," Olivia said. "What you've told me…It may help…"

When Sophia and Olivia returned to the living room, they discovered Bobby and Mrs. Genoa standing before an open closet. Bobby towered over the older woman, who spoke rapidly and warmly as she pointed out objects and lifted them for his inspection.

"Tony," she declared. "Is a good boy…a very good boy."

Olivia caught Bobby's eyes, and they winced at the woman's use of the present tense in talking about her son. Olivia sensed that Bobby's interview had been much harder than hers.

"Mrs. Genoa," Olivia said. "Sophia told me…Tony is close to his Uncle John?"

"Oh, yes!" said Mrs. Genoa brightly. "My brother thinks the world of Tony. But we haven't seen much of him lately, have we Sophia?"

"No, Mom," Sophia answered calmly.

Bobby looked at Olivia curiously; Mrs. Genoa answered his questions.

"John is a policeman," she said proudly. "He goes to all of Tony's baseball games." She leaned into the closet and briefly rummaged through a box. "Here." She thrust a frame photo at Bobby, who accepted it with great care. "That was taken the year Tony was the Most Valuable Player on his team…the year…before…" Mrs. Genoa choked.

Bobby handed the photo to Olivia and tenderly guided Mrs. Genoa to the couch. He handed her his handkerchief.

"It's all right," he said, and Olivia thought anyone could believe in those words in that voice.

"It's just," Mrs. Genoa said as she gained some control. "I…I miss my Tony."

"I understand," Bobby said. "Do you think…would you mind…if we took that photo…It might help us…"

"Of course…anything to help you…"

Olivia handed the photo back to Bobby, who slipped it carefully back into his binder. "I promise you that I will get this back to you," he said. He stood, and Mrs. Genoa clutched at his hand.

"Do you have to go?" she pleaded.

"I'm afraid so," Bobby said gently. "But I promise you that I'll call you and let you know what's happening. And…" He carefully freed his hand from Mrs. Genoa's grasp and extracted a business card from a binder pocket. "Here's my card…You can call me."

Mrs. Genoa seized the card. "Thank you…You're a good boy…Just like my Tony…"

"I'm sure," Bobby said softly. "That your Tony is much better than me."

END Chapter Five


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

He was quiet on the walk back to the SUV. He sat in the passenger seat, and turned to Olivia as if he just realized she wasn't Alex. "Sorry…habit…"

"It's ok," she said. "I don't mind driving. Could you call in?"

He flipped open his cell as Olivia started the car. "Eames," he said.

"Bobby…How was the interview?" Alex asked.

"Olivia may have gotten something from Tony Genoa's sister…The name John Bertelli…He's a cop with the…" Bobby glanced at Olivia.

"Westchester County," Olivia said.

"Westchester County," Bobby told Alex. "He's Tony Genoa's uncle…There's something familiar about his name…We've got a photo of him with Tony…"

"Got it…We'll check it with our lists." Alex didn't try to hide her concern. "You ok?"

"I…I talked with Tony's mom…She…It was tough," Bobby admitted.

In the driver's seat Olivia thought, "That's one of the understatements of the year."

"But…I'm ok," Bobby continued.

"Ok…You take care of yourself," Alex said gently. "Munch is insisting on bringing in Italian for dinner."

"Thanks, Eames." Bobby shut his phone. He pulled the photo from his binder and studied it. It showed a lanky boy with a shock of black hair proudly holding a trophy. He stood in front of a man in a grey police uniform who stood stiffly at attention and looked admiringly at the boy. But there was something disturbing in the man's attention.

"Possessive," Bobby murmured.

"What?" Olivia said.

"Beretti…in this photo…He looks possessive…Almost as if he owns Tony," Bobby said softly.

Silence filled the car for several moments. "Did Mrs. Genoa mention she had another son?" Olivia asked tentatively.

Bobby looked up from the photo in some surprise. "No…Where is he?"

"Sophia told me about him…Younger than Tony…Older than her…Named Paulie…"

"Let me guess…" Bobby said sadly. "He tried to take the place of his brother…"

"Yea," Olivia said.

"So…was it drugs? Did the streets get him?"

"He…he jumped from a bridge," Olivia said softly, wishing she hadn't brought up Paulie.

Bobby winced. "Yea…Suicide…That'd be another possibility." He stared out the car window. "Mrs. Genoa didn't even have any photos of him…or of Sophia…Everything was Tony…"

Another silence descended in the car. Olivia felt exhaustion coming in waves from Bobby. "You can grab some sleep…"

"For about ten minutes…" Bobby shook his head. "But we are going by my apartment…If you wouldn't mind, I'd love to grab a change of clothes…If…if it's not too much trouble…" He looked at her shyly.

"If I can get the same privilege," Olivia said lightly.

"You don't have to hunt for a parking place," Bobby said. "Not that you'd find one…If you just pull around the block, I'll be back down…"

He was waiting for her when Olivia brought the car around. A garment bag hung over his shoulder.

"That was quick," Olivia said admiringly. "Elliott's never waiting for me when I pick him up. 'Course, he does have kids impeding his progress."

A smile hinted on Bobby's face. "I keep a bag ready," he said. "I usually have one at Major Case…but…I've been away…" His voice faded.

"I head about your mom," Olivia said carefully. "I'm sorry."

He stared at the dashboard for several minutes, and she feared she'd crossed some invisible line.

"Thank…thank you," he said.

At her apartment Olivia boldly parked the SUV in a "No Parking Zone." "I'm not as ethical or organized as you," she said as she placed a police id tag on the dash. "Come on up…It's going to take me a few minutes…And I think it's reasonably clean."

She smiled warmly at him, and Bobby felt oddly happy.

He briefly considered staying in the car to study the materials in his binder, but Olivia's generosity and his own need for a break led him to follow her. Her apartment was small, neat, and welcoming, but showed signs that in recent days Olivia had used it largely for sleep and not much of that. He hesitated shyly in the doorway.

"Come on in," she said. "There's nothing to bite you. I think there's some iced tea in the fridge…Some wine…" She pointed to the tiny kitchen. "And you're welcome to anything you can find in the fridge." She ran a hand through her hair. "I'm going to grab a shower with my own stuff."

"Ok," Bobby said. "It's going to take a while to run Bertelli's name through the system…and there's always the possibility he's just Tony Genoa's uncle and nothing more…"

Ignoring the offer to ravage her refrigerator, Bobby sat on her couch and examined her apartment. There were books—not as many as he possessed, but very few places outside of bookstores and libraries contained as many books as Bobby's apartment—and many of the titles demonstrated connections to her profession, but Bobby also noted several dealing with alcoholism and the children of alcoholics. There were few photos—more than Bobby had, but nearly everyone's home contained more photos that Bobby's apartment—and most showed Olivia with other cops, but a handful showed a young Olivia with a woman whose eyes and nose and mouth were strikingly similar to the younger woman's. "Her mom," Bobby thought. There were signs of strain in the older woman's face, a sense that she looked older than she was. There was no sign of a father, and Bobby wondered if Olivia's apparent interest in alcoholism and the children of alcoholics was more than academic. "None of your business, Goren," he thought and leaned back against the couch. "But it'd explain some of her sensitivity…her watchfulness…her wanting to help everyone." He smiled wryly. "And all of that could describe you." He closed his eyes.

Olivia threw a change of clothes into a duffle bag and tossed it on her bed. She wasn't in the habit of taking a shower with a strange—or at least relatively unknown--man in her apartment, but Bobby Goren inspired a rare sense of security in her. She shed her clothes and stepped into her shower; the cool water sloughed away the day's dirt and anxiety. "I like him," she thought as the water flowed over her body. "I like Bobby Goren. He works hard…He doesn't grab things out of the air…He listens…He cares…God, he's having a rough time…" She shut off the water and vigorously dried her body. She dressed quickly and entered the living room.

"Ok, Bobby," she said as she fixed an earring. "Let's…" Olivia paused at the sight of Bobby sprawled across her couch. He was asleep, his long eyelashes fluttering, and he looked terribly young and vulnerable. Olivia smiled, and involuntarily her hand reached out to brush his curls. He stirred and turned his head into her touch. "He trusts me," she thought, and her heart filled with a sudden and inexplicable joy. She sat heavily in the chair opposite the couch; Bobby shifted in search of her touch. "No," Olivia thought. "No…There hasn't been enough time…I don't know him that well…I'm not a teenager…Not another cop…Not THIS cop…Not now…There's got to be someone in his life…He's kind…smart…funny…sweet…He's not bad-looking…No…He's just buried his mother…" She put her head in her hands and stared at Bobby. "He has a reputation…But so do I…" She rubbed her eyes. "There's no ring on his finger…From what Alex has told me, there isn't anyone…Except Alex." Olivia smiled wryly. "Just like me with Elliott."

Her cell phone rang, and Bobby stirred fitfully. Olivia walked quickly to her bedroom and checked the number. "Elliott," she answered.

"Liv…where are you guys?"

"My apartment," Olivia answered, reluctant to tell her partner that Bobby Goren was also there. "I wanted to grab a change of clothes."

There was a pause, and Olivia felt Elliott's disapproval through the phone.

"So, is Goren dazzling you with his knowledge of some insect's mating habits?"

Anger flared in Olivia. She knew that Elliott was only slightly annoyed, that he was joking, but she felt oddly protective of Bobby. Elliott hadn't seen Bobby's gentle handling of Mrs. Genoa or his obvious pain at the Genoa family's destruction.

"If you really want to know," Olivia said in a coldly controlled voice. "He was exhausted and fell asleep on the couch. Not that he's done much except make this case."

Another pause followed. "Liv…I'm sorry…I know what he's done…" Elliott was genuinely sorry. "I didn't mean to insult Goren."

Olivia calmed. "I know, Elliott. I'm sorry for jumping down your throat…It's just…He's really bright, but he works really hard too…He was terrific interviewing the kid's mother."

"Liv," Stabler said. "You're not falling for this guy?"

The anger flared again. Elliott was using his best—or worst—big brother tone. He was trying to protect her, and she wasn't in the mood or need of protection.

"He's a cop…and a good one…I'm just helping him out."

"Ok," Elliott said in a tone that indicated he certainly didn't think it was ok. "He's helped us…Bertelli…He's connected to all of the leagues where the disappeared boys played…We've found photos of him presenting trophies to a couple of them."

Olivia's grip on her phone tightened. "Goren's right."

"Yea…He's been right about everything…But there's nothing else to connect Bertelli…It could be coincidence…But we're going to keep looking." Elliott's tone became apologetic. "I'm sorry, Liv…I know Goren could use the rest, but we could really use both of you…"

"We'll be there in an hour or so…"

"Right…Just a warning…Munch is apparently bringing samples of most of Mama Leoni's menu."

Olivia clicked shut her phone and tried to fathom why Elliott's comments had angered her. "Maybe," she thought. "Because there's truth to them…"

A choked cry from the living room broke in on her thoughts. She quickly walked into the room and discovered Bobby twisting on her couch.

"No," he muttered. "Don't hurt her…Don't…"

"Bobby," Olivia said softly. "Wake up…It's a nightmare…"

"No…no…Let her go…Please let her go…"

"Bobby." She spoke more urgently. "Please. Wake up…"

"No…no…I'm not…I'm not like that…"

"Bobby." Olivia knelt by the couch. "Please…Wake up…"

"No!" Bobby shouted and shot up. He sat for several moments, shaking and staring wildly around him. Dizziness and nausea swept over him, and he fell back against the couch.

"It's all right," Olivia said gently. She tentatively touched his arm. "You're in my apartment. You fell asleep."

Her voice soothed and comforted him. Bobby blinked. "I…I…" He swallowed; he was terribly thirsty.

"I'll get you some water." Olivia started to stand, but Bobby clutched at her hand.

"No…please…"

Olivia looked in his eyes. She'd never seen such need and want in anyone's eyes. Certainly no man had ever looked at her with such vulnerability; it produced a strange and thrilling sense of power in Olivia. She couldn't hold his gaze and looked away.

"I…I'm sorry." Bobby stared at his hands. "I…I have bad dreams…" He struggled to sit up. Olivia reached to help him, but he stiffened when she touched him.

"Please." She took a deep breath. "I…I have bad dreams too."

He looked at her; this time she met and held his gaze.

"Your Mom or Dad? Or both?" he asked gently. At her surprised look, he waved his hand. "The books…"

She carefully sat next to him on the couch. "My mom…was an alcoholic."

She took his hand, and her soft strength thrilled him.

"My Mom…" He wondered why he not only trusted her but felt the need to confess to her. "My Mom was schizophrenic…"

They moved closer to each other.

"I…" Olivia tried to understand why she trusted this man, why she felt she could reveal so much to him. "My mother…I never knew my father…because my mother was raped."

Bobby jerked in surprise, then moved as if to hug her. "I…I'm sorry…I don't…" he stuttered.

Olivia reached for him, and they fell into each other's embrace.

"Please," she whispered into soft, rich fabric of his suit jacket. "Don't tell me how it explains everything…"

"I won't." His voice was a gentle rumble in her ear. "Because it doesn't…It may explain some things, but not much and certainly not all."

He was big and warm and kind, and she marveled that a man could be so vulnerable and strong.

"It doesn't explain everything about you any more than my Mom explains everything about me." Olivia sensed Bobby spoke to himself as much as he did to her. She hugged him tightly. They held each other for several minutes.

"Olivia…I…I'm not sure what's happening here," Bobby admitted. "And it's happening so fast and at such a bad time."

"Yea," she agreed. "I…I'm not used to this. I don't fall this fast."

"You…fallen…for me?" he wondered.

"Why should that surprise you?"

"It's just…that…" Bobby brushed his lips across her hair. "You're…wonderful…and I'm…me."

Olivia smiled. "You've shown signs of being pretty wonderful yourself."

His face dropped, and he gently released her. "You…don't know me…I…I…"

"I know you about as well as you know me," Olivia said. It was a new and disconcerting experience for her to try to convince a man of his worth.

He stood and turned away from her. "I…this is such a terrible time," he whispered. "I…"

Olivia stood. "Not a good time," she agreed. "My experience is that things like this always pick the wrong time, if there's any choice in it." She studied Bobby's broad back. She sensed that he had, with great effort, opened up a great deal to her, and the cost was becoming clear. "Listen," she said in a voice that stunned her in its calm. "Right now we've got this case…We deal with, and we see what happens, ok?"

Bobby turned to face her. "Ok…but…" he said sadly. "It's not going to be easy."

"I know," Olivia said. "I know."

END Chapter Six


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

His head buzzed as Olivia drove. "No…not now…I can't…I don't even know who I am." He chanced a look at Olivia. "She's beautiful…She gets more beautiful the more you look at her…And she's kind…and smart and tough…Why did she hug me? Because she's kind, you idiot…Why did you tell her about your Mom? Because you're an idiot…" He slumped in the passenger seat.

"You ok?" Olivia asked gently.

"Uh…yea…"

"You haven't said much since we got in the car…not that you have to…"

"Just…thinking about the case…and…" He looked at her shyly. "What happened…"

She smiled at him, and that wonderful warmth swept through him again.

"The case," he thought. "Concentrate on the case. It's what you're supposed to be doing…And maybe it'll keep other things out of your head."

Olivia tried to understand what led to Bobby's retreat inside his head. His revelation about his mother stunned her as much as her own about her parents. "Maybe both of us had rotten childhoods…Maybe that's why…" She gripped the steering wheel tightly. "Maybe he thinks we'll hurt each other..." She took a deep breath.

"Look," she said with a confidence she didn't feel. "I don't know how to do this except be honest…"

Bobby didn't move. "Maybe," he said. "Maybe we…" He shook his head. "You deserve better than that…."

Olivia carefully guided the car into the SVU parking garage. "Ok," she said. "I know I feel something for you…and you feel something for me…or else what was all that in my apartment?"

Bobby nodded slowly. "But…Olivia…I…" For a moment he thought he could tell her everything, tell her about Brady and his mother, about why his great success was a huge fraud, how he wasn't sure who or what he was. "There's so much," he said feebly.

"Yea," Olivia agreed. "Look…We know this is going to be awkward."

Bobby nodded again.

"We try to remain professional…As much as we can…We have a responsibility to our jobs…and our partners."

"You're saying a lot of what I've been thinking," Bobby said softly. "But not all," he thought.

"We need to act as normally as possible…"

"Whatever that may be for us," Bobby said ruefully. "Eames…" A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "She thought…she saw…something…and I…I'm not good at hiding things from her…and it's never good when I do…"

"I think we can tell our partners, if there's anything to tell." Olivia smiled. "But Elliott is awfully protective of me."

"I think Eames trusts you a lot more than Stabler trusts me."

"Only because Elliott doesn't know you as well as Alex knows me." She tenderly placed a hand on his arm.

"We may have four people in this," Bobby said.

"Maybe," Olivia admitted with a grin. "And if we don't get up there soon, two of them are going to come looking for us."

The other detectives barely registered their arrival, aside from Munch's comment, "It's not the food."

"Hey, partner," Alex said as Bobby sat at his desk. "You look a little better."

Bobby watched Olivia sit across from Stabler, who gave her a close look. Bobby clicked on his computer. "I'm sorry…It wasn't Benson's fault…I…zonked out…"

"Don't worry, Bobby," Alex said as she looked at several files. "No one is complaining about you getting a few minutes of sleep. Not when you're responsible for most of our breaks in this case."

The compute screen blurred in front of Bobby's eyes. He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Hey…you need some more rest…"

"I'm ok," Bobby said quickly. "What did we find out about Bertelli?"

Alex decided not to press the fight. "He checked out…and Munch suggested seeing if he had contact with anyone else…A few names came up…One of those…" She handed Bobby a paper. "Gregory Veneer."

Bobby's eyes narrowed. "Veneer…as in…"

"Very rich…very old money…very influential…" Alex said.

"They always are," Bobby muttered. "What's he doing..." He read the report and looked up to meet Alex's gaze. "An indecent exposure charge…"

Alex nodded. "Which may have involved a child. The SVU guys are convinced his family got the charges reduced. He's been good ever since, or at least good enough. But the people I talked with at the leagues…They say Veneer and Bertelli are close…Veneer is careful not to get too close to the kids. Although…" She sighed. "No one seems to have checked much on his background when he volunteered…Damn…If cops don't do checks, how can we expect…"

A triumphant Fin appeared. "Got something! On my way back from court I talked to one of Michael's teammates. He remembers seeing a police car…not NYPD…around the ball fields the days before and week of Michael's disappearance."

Bobby's heart pounded so loudly in hope that he thought everyone in the room must hear it.

"Can the kid describe it?" Stabler asked anxiously.

"Better than that." Fin held up a large piece of paper like a trophy. It contained a detailed pencil sketch of a police car clearly marked "Westchester County." "The kid hopes to be an artist," Fin said. "Told him we might have a job for him if all his stuff is this good."

In the midst of the excited buzz in the room, Bobby stood and walked to a corner. "Don't rush on this," he thought. "Coincidences…All of this may be coincidences…This is a terrible thing…One of the most horrible things to accuse someone…But…but everything we have…Everything tells me…And time…time is against us…Michael Flynn doesn't have time…"An image of a terrified boy trembling in the dark flooded his mind, and he shivered.

"Bobby?" Olivia's soft voice said. "Are you ok?"

She touched him tentatively on the arm. A current briefly jumbled his mind and left it with a stunning clarity.

"Truth," he said. "You have to tell me the truth…"

Puzzled and slightly frightened, she studied him. "Of course…"

"Do you think I'm right in focusing on Bertelli? I'm not following some obsession?" He looked intently in her eyes.

"Yes," she answered firmly and without hesitation. She met his eyes with equal intensity.

"Ok," he said.

Triumph filled Olivia. She knew from speaking to Alex and her brief but intense observation of Bobby that he didn't trust easily. Within a few hours, he'd trusted her in both his professional and private lives.

Cragen dealt with the DA's office in seeking permission to search John Bertelli's and Gregory Veneer's lives. The detectives continued to assess and process what information they had. Bobby caught Olivia's eyes at one point, and she gave him a quick smile. A comfortable warmth spread through him. "I trust her," he thought. "And she seems to want me to do that." He concentrated on the computer screen. "But she doesn't know…if she did…" He sighed.

Huang appeared at his side. "Goren…Can I talk to you…"

"Of course." Bobby turned. "What do you think about Bertelli?"

"We need to talk to him…and to Veneer…of course," Huang said. "But what we've found out about both men…I don't think either of them is capable of a crime like this…but together…"

Bobby nodded.

"That," Munch said as the other detectives observed Bobby and Huang, "is an odd looking couple."

Alex chewed a pencil thoughtfully before she spoke. "I almost feel sorry for the guy they're profiling."

Cragen appeared from his office. "Nothing for Veneer, but the A.D.A. is willing to get us warrants to search Bertelli's car and home. She'd prefer we get him to talk to us first. I can't blame her…I'm not thrilled this is a cop from another department."

"We may be able to get him to talk to us," Huang said.

"What," Stabler said. "Bertelli and Veneer are going to waltz in and talk to us?"

"Maybe," Bobby said softly. "Veneer is less likely, but Bertelli…Huang and I have some ideas…In the meantime, we should check out the Veneer family's real estate holdings…See if they have any property near or central to the disappearances."

"All right," Cragen said. "If you can get one or both of them in here, great. But remember…we're working on a deadline here."

His eyes darkening, Bobby nodded. "I know."

Alex watched Bobby as he returned to his desk. She sat next to him. "What are you and Huang up to?"

"Huang came up with a possible profile of the perp…or perps…We were able to get some more information on Bertelli and Veneer…"

"They fit the profile?"

"It's…neither of them entirely…It's odd…Put them together and they fit pretty well…Bertelli, according to what we've got, is pretty tightly wound. He's never married, and his life is his work, the Catholic Church, and these baseball leagues. His work record is unblemished…"

"But we know an unblemished record doesn't mean a good cop," Alex commented.

"Bertelli's record is blissfully free of any spots," Bobby said. "Of course, it's also blissfully free of any real police work. I'll grant you that he's apparently a great administrator…"

"Oh, a paper pusher…"

"Yea…and he's good at pleasing his superiors."

"Veneer?"

Bobby pulled out a paper from the stack on his desk. "He shows some signs of being a classic predator…But not a killer…"

Alex sighed. "Bobby…really…What are the chances that Michael Flynn is still alive?"

"I…I don't know," Bobby admitted after a moment. He blinked, terrible images of what might be happening to Michael Flynn flowing through his mind. "The longer it takes…"

"Bobby." Alex rested her hand on his arm. "We're all working on this. You're not the only one. You're doing your best. Ok?"

His eyes met hers. "Ok."

"Food…I have food," Munch announced as he strode into the office. "A feast…"

They were all terribly hungry; Alex in particular bore resemblance to a ravenous beast.

"Good Lord," Munch said. "Don't get between her and the food."

"Something I learned long ago," Bobby said dryly.

"Where does she put it all?" Fin marveled.

"Burn a lot of calories chasing after my partner." Alex brandished a breadstick. "Just walking with him takes a lot of energy."

Cragen appeared at his office door. "Well," he said looking at Bobby and Huang. "I'm convinced the two of you may be mindreaders."

"Bertelli?" Bobby asked. "He'll talk to us?"

Stabler dropped a fork, and Munch choked on a meatball.

"Better than that," Cragen said. "He's in the city…He wants to come here…"

Alex dropped a breadstick, and even Bobby looked surprised.

"He's on his way," Cragen added. "When I told him he could be a great help to us, he was extremely eager."

Bobby abandoned his lasagna. "In the city…He's in the city," he muttered. "That may mean…" His eyes shining, Bobby looked up at Cragen. "Captain, we need to have a tail ready to follow him when he leaves here."

Cragen nodded.

"You think," Alex said. "If Bertelli is in Manhattan, Michael Flynn is too."

Bobby nodded.

"Well, let's get ready for his visit," Fin said and started to pick up the remains of dinner.

"Wait." Bobby reached across the table to stop Fin. "Leave it." He looked at Huang, who nodded slowly.

Fin looked in surprise at Bobby and Huang. "What? You think this guy will get upset at seeing our dirty dishes?"

"No," Bobby said slowly. "But he won't like the mess. Fin, which one is your grungiest, dirtiest interrogation room?"

"None of them are going to win good housekeeping awards," Fin answered.

Sensing vaguely what Bobby and Huang were up to, Stabler stood. "I'd go with three," he said. "It's so dark that sometimes I have to rely on my memory to not bump into things."

"Perfect…That's the one…" Bobby sat in thought. "Eames…You and Stabler…You should start talking to Bertelli…and then…" He caught Alex's gently warning look. "I…I'm sorry…" He looked at the SVU detectives. "I'm charging ahead here…I didn't mean to…"

Stabler's temper had flared at Bobby's rush forward, but it cooled with the other detective's sincere apology. "Just let us know what's going on and give us time to catch up."

"Ok," Bobby said. "Here's what Huang and I think."

END Chapter Seven


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

Elliott Stabler scanned the SVU Squad Room. It was never the neatest or cheeriest of rooms, but now, with the remains of Italian takeout on several tables and papers and files piled high on several desks, it verged on disgusting. Goren added to the sense of chaos by kicking over several wastebaskets. "Great," Stable commented to Olivia. "The cleaning crew will hate us."

Olivia smiled. "They're not too found of us as it is."

"I hope Goren knows what he's doing," Stabler said.

"He's been on the money so far," Olivia said, hoping she didn't sound too defensive. "And this is also Huang's idea."

"Yea," Stabler admitted. "The guy's good…Not the weirdo I've heard about…"

Olivia flushed at the word "weirdo". "I haven't found him weird at all," she said curtly. "He handled Mrs. Genoa with great care." She allowed more anger than she wanted into her voice.

"Liv, we're on the same side." Stable examined her. "Are you…is something going on here?"

Olivia flushed again. "And since when…" She swallowed.

"Oh, Liv…" She hated the paternal tone in Elliott's voice. She always hated when he seemed to think that he knew what was best for her. It didn't help that in this case she knew that he might be right.

"Liv," Elliott continued. "You don't need this in your life right now. You don't need it at all…"

"It." Olivia snorted. "Bobby Goren isn't an "it"."

"That's not what I meant and you know it…" Elliott raised his hands as a shield.

"If we weren't talking about Bobby Goren, what would you say?" Olivia challenged him.

Elliott looked at her for a moment. "I…his work is great…He's a terrific detective, but…"

"You've answered the question," she said and turned away from him.

"Liv," Elliott said desperately. "Look…I'm sorry…It's just you've been through a lot lately…I'm your friend…I don't want you to get hurt…"

He was so genuinely sorry that Olivia's heart softened. "Ok," she said and turned back to face him. "But he's been through a lot lately too, a lot more than me."

Elliott was visibly relieved. "I'll keep an open mind…but I can't promise that I won't worry about you."

"That's all right," Olivia said. "Sometimes it's nice to have someone worry about me."

"Where is Goren anyway?" Elliott asked.

"Getting ready for Bertelli," Olivia answered.

"I don't think," Elliott said. "That I want to be in Bertelli's shoes."

"What if," Alex asked Bobby as he hung up his suit jacket in a locker. "Bertelli isn't the control freak you and Huang expect him to be?"

"Then the chances he has anything to do with these disappearances drops considerably," Bobby replied. "But I'm not betting against Huang."

"I wouldn't bet against you," Alex responded.

Bobby smiled. "Thanks, Eames…Well…for the support…and watching out for me."

"It's ok." Alex returned his smile. "It's what you do for a partner and friend."

"You…you were right about Olivia…being interested in me…" He shuffled his feet and stared at them.

"And you're calling her by her first name? How serious is this?"

"She…she's wonderful…but she has some troubles of her own," Bobby said hesitantly.

"Maybe that," Alex said. "Is something you have in common…"

Bobby rubbed the back of his neck. "It could really hurt us."

"That's a chance you'll have to take if you want to be together," Alex said calmly.

"But…I…I don't want to hurt her," Bobby said.

"why are you so sure you'd hurt her? She might hurt you," Alex said. "But I can't imagine that either of you deliberately hurting anyone."

Bobby stared at his feet.

"I also think…for what it's worth," Alex continued. "That you should let Olivia make her decision." She shrugged. "That's my two bits."

"I appreciate it, Eames." For a moment, Bobby considered telling her about his last encounter with Brady. "No," he thought. "Not even her…not now…"

"If you're going for a grungy look," Alex interrupted his thoughts. "You're succeeding."

"Good," he declared.

"Well, I'm off to play good cop," Alex said genially. "I hope Stabler is up to this. You know…" She paused at the stairs. "I'm just as rebellious as you…"

"I know." Bobby smiled. "But you're much better at hiding it."

She left, and Bobby felt very alone. "I hope I can still do this," he thought. "This is my first interview since Brady, unless you count my last session with my Mom on her deathbed." He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Eames will be there…Eames will help me…She'll keep me straight…"

"Hey…Berterlli's here," Olivia said. "You and Huang were right…He's a control freak…All spit and polish." A smile crossed her face. "He was appalled at the state of the Squad Room." She studied Bobby. "I suspect he'll be even more appalled by your state."

"I look that bad? Good." Bobby smiled.

"The fact you haven't shaved in a couple of days and haven't gotten much sleep really adds to it." Olivia's smile faded. "You feel up to this?"

For a brief moment, Bobby considered confessing that his interviews with Brady left him with raw wounds that still bled. "I'm good," he declared.

Olivia thought she saw some of her own defenses rise in Bobby; she decided against pushing against them. "Ok," she said. "I've heard you're good in the interrogation room."

"Just," Bobby said. "Maybe more outrageous."

"Goren," Cragen called down the stairs. "Bertelli is getting impatient."

"Don't want that," Bobby said and started up the stairs.

John Bertelli sat stiffly in the interrogation room, his back barely touching the chair. Everything about him was tightly clenched, from his toes to his graying buzz cut. Bobby thought he could bounce a quarter off the man's jaw. His belt reflected the room's lights, and the crease in his trousers was sharp enough to qualify as a weapon. His arms lay stiffly on the table as if he feared actual contact might contaminate him. Huang stood at the one way window watching Bertelli, Eames and Stabler. The psychiatrist turned as Bobby approached, and his eyes widened slightly as he took in the detective's appearance. Bobby wore a pair of faded and ragged jeans, a worn T-shirt, and an old shirt held together by slender thread. Combined with his uncombed curls, haggard face, and stubble, Bobby looked less like one of New York's Finest and more like one of New York's Worst.

"Bertelli didn't like the state of the squad room," Huang commented. "And he's definitely not going to like yours."

Bobby watched Bertelli. "Does he fit…"

"Yes…Appallingly well." Huang also studied Bertelli. "So much so that this is one time where I'm almost convinced profiling is a science instead of an art."

"Most of the time, I'm not sure it's either," Bobby said. "All right." He opened his binder and yanked several pieces of paper to dangle from it. "Time for the show."

As the daughter, granddaughter, niece, cousin, sister, and widow of cops, Alex had met and known a large number and variety of the species. Most were the type who made you proud of being part of the human race, people who would willingly face down a man with a gun, who would rush into a burning or collapsing building to save a life, who would ran towards trouble instead of away from it. Among those were some who were weak or had a bad moment, but were essentially good souls. But there were some who should never have been given a gun. Some liked the gun and its power too much. Some were too lazy or careless or corruptible. But the worst in Alex's minds were the John Bertellis. They were all the more dangerous because they appeared to be model officers. Bertelli certainly looked the part of a great cop. His grey hair was closely cropped; his uniform spotless. He was happy to cooperate with the NYPD in any investigation, happy to come in, in spite of the lateness of the hour. He treated Stabler with some apparent respect, although both Alex and Stabler sensed a small town cop's disdain for big city officers. He made little effort to conceal his condescending attitude towards Alex, a tone that didn't change when she casually revealed she came from a family of cops, a revelation that had gained her some leverage in the past.

They threw softballs at him, casual questions about his work and the police baseball leagues. To their surprise, Bertelli dropped Veneer's name in the course of dropping several others he clearly expected would impress the two detectives.

"But why these question?" Bertelli finally asked. "Why all this interest in baseball? Your captain told me this was urgent."

"Actually," Alex said. "Captain Cragen, as good as he is, isn't my commanding officer. I'm on loan…"

"Oh." Bertelli's voice dripped with dismissal. "You from the secretarial pool?"

Stabler spoke as Alex successfully fought the urge to snap Bertelli's head off. "Detective Eames is a senior member of the Major Case Squad…One of the elite squads of the NYPD…She's one of the lead detectives on this case."

Alex performed her well crafted trick of appearing several feet taller than her actual size. It worked—as it usually did—and Bertelli shrunk in his seat. She gave Stabler a quick, grateful look. She knew admitting any division was in any way superior to the SVU, even for the purpose of confusing a suspect, was difficult for Stabler. It was time, she thought, for Bobby to make his entrance.

"We're waiting for another detective," Alex said. "He's a little late."

"A little." Bertelli recovered. "I've been here half an hour…If this is how you do things…"

The interrogation room's door banged open, and Bobby lurched through. He juggled his bind and a cup of coffee, and part of a breadstick poked from his mouth.

"Sorry," he mumbled, bread crumbs spluttering from his mouth.

Stable and Alex pointedly avoided each other's gaze. Bertelli stiffened.

"Hey…Detective Bobby Goren." Bobby thrust his right hand at Bertelli, who stared at it as if it were a rotting fish. "Oh, sorry…" Bobby wiped the offending hand across his jeans. "You know how it is…" Bobby shoved the hand back at Bertelli, who had little choice but to shake it. He winced slightly at Bobby's grip. "You work a case and lose track of time," Bobby continued. "And you grab a bit any time you can." He perched on the edge of the table.

"I manage to get my job done during regular hours," Bertelli said stiffly.

"Regular hours?" Bobby laughed and looked at Stabler and Alex. "We wouldn't know about "regular hours", would we guys?"

"Nope," Stabler agreed.

"But then," Bobby said lightly. "You're an administrator, really…not a cop…"

Alex enjoyed watching the veins in Bertelli's neck throb above his tight collar.

"I came here," he said in a voice that barely concealed his anger. "Because a NYPD captain requested my help. I was told I could be of help in an investigation. So far, I've been asked pointless questions about my volunteer work. I've seen no signs of any investigation. And you, Detective…" Bertelli pronounced the last word as it was a disgusting insect he'd found smeared on the bottom of his shoe. "You wouldn't be allowed in my office…even in my building…looking like that. And your attitude…My men are professional…"

Bobby threw back his head and laughed. "Do you believe this guy?" he asked Alex and Stabler. "His "men"…You think we don't have your records? Your "men" are flunkies who do paper work…They probably have plenty of time to shine their shoes and polish their belts while they process traffic tickets…Not that they're like to ever do anything to dirty them."

Bertelli turned an unattractive shade of pink.

"But," Bobby said genially. "There is something you can help us with." With a quick fluid motion, Bobby swept the photo of Tony Genoa and his uncle from his binder and slammed it in front of Bertelli. The move was familiar to Alex, but Stabler admired it and its results. A ghastly white replaced the pink in Bertelli's face, and he stared at the photo. The three detectives saw glimmers of fear in his eyes.

"Your nephew's disappearance." Bobby began to pace in the small room. "You weren't much help to your family then…"

"Tony…He ran away…His Mom and Dad had a lot of trouble…He was a kid in a lot…"

"Did he tell you he was upset?" Bobby moved behind Bertelli, forcing him to twist in his chair. "You were supposed to be very close to him. Did he confide in his Uncle John?"

"He…We were close, but he changed…He didn't want to go to Church any more…He didn't want to be around me…"

"A teenaged boy would rather be with his friends than his middle-aged uncle." Bobby tilted his head. "I mean, what kind of excitement could you give him? A night of bingo at the K of C?"

"He…was…confused…He ran away…" Bertelli spluttered.

"Tony ran away, uh? What about this boy?" Bobby slammed the photo of another of the missing boys on the table. "And this one…and this one…all of these?" Bobby flung at least a dozen photos on the table. The sparks of fear in Bertelli's eyes became flames. "All of them runaways? All of these good, troubled boys ran away?" Bobby leaned in so close that Bertelli could feel his breath. "And all of them in your baseball leagues…" Bobby's voice was all the more terrifying for its softness. "Maybe you're the reason they ran away…or disappeared?"

Bertelli leaped from his chair, sending it to slam into Bobby's right knee.

"You have no right!" Bertelli shouted. "How dare you! This is over!"

Stabler and Alex rose quickly and blocked Bertelli's exit. Bobby nodded at them, and they stepped aside to let Bertelli rush from the room. Bobby rubbed his right knee. "Make sure we've got a tail on him," he said.

"Got it," Stabler said. As he opened the door, Alex and Bobby heard Bertelli shouting threats of filing complaints and accusation of unprofessional conduct.

"Ok?" Alex moved closer to bobby.

"Fine," Bobby insisted. He picked up his binder and collected the photos. "Let's face the music."

A grim faced Cragen met them outside the interrogation room. "I hope that was the result you wanted," he said. Alex didn't know Cragen well, but she sensed he was as angry as he ever got. "Bertelli is threatening to sue or file complaints against everyone in SVU and Major Case."

"Cap." Stabler rallied to the defense. "Bertelli's our guy…I know it…"

"Elliott, are you sure?" Huang asked. "Goren pushed every one of his buttons…"

"Yea…pushed them hard," Stabler said admiringly. "You weren't in that room with him. When Goren showed him those photos…Bertelli is our guy."

"The tail is on him?" Bobby asked anxiously.

"Yes," Cragen said.

"I'm sorry, sir…but it was the best and quickest way," Bobby said. He'd come to respect and like the SVU captain.

"What I don't understand," Stabler said, looking in wonder at Bobby. "You had him ready to explode…Why let him out of the room?"

Bobby fumbled with his binder. "If Michael Flynn is still alive…and I think there's a good chance he is…We have to find him. Bertelli leading us to him is the easiest way…If he confessed now, he might not be able or willing to tell us where Michael is…or the bodies of the others…And…" Bobby sighed. "The confession might not hold up…and we still don't know how much Veneer is involved."

"He does this sort of thing all of the time?" an impressed Munch asked Alex.

"Yea," she answered proudly. "That's my partner."

"You really think Bertelli will lead us to Michael?" Cragen asked. "Right after the interview…He's a cop…"

"He's not a cop," Bobby said with a touch of anger. "He's a bully and a coward in a uniform…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "Sorry…It's been a long day…"

"It's gonna be longer," Fin said. "The tail…Bertelli isn't headed home to Westchester…He's moving fast towards some warehouses…"

"I'll bet," Bobby said. "Wherever he's going, it's owned by Veneer's family."

"I'll not bet against you," Cragen said. "All right, people…let's follow Mr. Bertelli…"

Olivia sat quietly in the passenger seat.

"You ok over there?" Elliott asked.

"Yea." Things were finally better between Olivia and Elliott, but there were still uneasy moments. Olivia knew her feelings for Bobby could only increase the tension.

"I hope we find the kid alive," Elliott said as he guided the SUV through the dark streets.

"Bobby…Goren's optimistic." Olivia cursed herself for the slip.

"I hope he's right," Elliott said. "He's good…" He shook his head. "And in the interrogation…He was amazing. Knew what and how to push Bertelli's buttons."

"Yea, he did," Olivia agreed. She stared out the car window. She'd watched the Bertelli interview with fascination and amazement, and a growing sense of confusion. She watched as the quiet, gentle Bobby Goren morphed into a frightening, aggressive hulk of a man. As the detectives headed to their cars, Olivia and Bobby's eyes briefly met, and the gentle, troubled man she knew had returned. But she couldn't hold his gaze, and, his head bowed, he turned away from her.

Her cell phone rang. "'Liv," Fin said. "We've got a report…Goren's right again…Bertelli's stopped at a warehouse owned by the Veneer family."

"Thanks, Fin."

A few moments later, Bobby shut his cell after receiving the same information from Fin.

"You think he's keeping Michael Flynn there?" Alex asked.

"I…I don't know…but I am certain there's evidence of something there…"

"Why'd he run?" Alex asked. "And straight to a place that may link him…" She kept their car close to Elliot and Olivia's.

"No one's suspected him before," Bobby spoke his thoughts. "He's a man of terrible conflicts who's survived by keeping everything in neat little compartments. His only thought may be to try to destroy evidence…Or run for help to his partner…" His voice faded away.

Bobby's thoughts drifted to Olivia. When they met in the hallway, she couldn't look him in the eye. "She's seen it," he thought. "That part of me…The one that manipulates people…Brady could do that…He did it to me…Maybe he saw that in me…" He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"We're here," Alex said softly. "You ready?"

"As I'll ever be," Bobby answered.

The unit assigned to follow Bertelli knew he'd entered the building, but not where he'd left his car. Fin and Munch joined them to search for the vehicle; Alex, Olivia, Bobby and Elliott sought entry to the building. It proved remarkably easy, so easy that all four detectives shared uneasy looks as a side door creaked open. Their flashlights discovered a huge open space rising several stories.

"I didn't expect an open door," Elliott whispered.

Bobby nodded. "I don't like this."

"Think he knows we're here?" Olivia asked.

"I'm sure he's expecting us," Bobby replied. In spite of their efforts to speak quietly, their voices seemed to boom in the large space.

"Great," Alex whispered. "We're in a big, dark room holding the only sources of light."

Bobby cocked his head. "I…I smell something," he said.

Olivia's phone vibrated in her pocket. Before she could speak, Fin's frantic voice yelled, "Fire! Olivia! Get out! Fire!"

The wall behind them exploded in flames.

End Chapter Eight


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

The searing wave forced the detectives to their knees. Elliott staggered to his feet and dragged Olivia with him. Terrible, bright light replaced the darkness. Olivia saw that Bobby had flung his body over Alex's.

"C'mon," Elliott shouted in her ear. She could barely hear him over the roar of fire. "We gotta get out of here!"

Flames already lapped at the ceiling, and ashes and sparks began falling on and around them like horrible red snowflakes.

"No!" Bobby screamed. "Not that way. Over there!" He pointed at a side window where the fire was already very close.

Elliott stared at Bobby, but Alex screamed "Trust him!" All four detectives rushed to the window. The heat and flames had weakened and distorted the glass and frame, and Bobby and Elliott's frantic kicks easily shattered it. As they threw their bodies out the window, Olivia heard a huge explosion to her left as the other wall dissolved in flames. They landed hard in a lake of mud and water. Alex screamed, and Olivia and Elliott saw Bobby roll her in the glop.

"Goren!" Elliott shouted as a flame flashed on Bobby's back. "Fire! You're on fire!"

Bobby flopped immediately on his back, drowning the flames. Elliot and Olivia staggered to the other two detectives. The fire's heat and smoke seared their skin and choked their throats; ash and sparks rained on them.

"Get away…gotta…" Bobby gasped.

They stumbled and lurched from the ravaged building; the once saving mud was now a terrible enemy, clutching at their feet and threatening to hold them for the fire. They managed to drag themselves far enough away that the heat was tolerable and the sky free of fire. They lay choking and gasping in the mud and water; the shrill screams of siren sounded just above the fire's roar.

"Eames!" Bobby gasped. He crawled to her. "Are you all right?"

"Damn!" Alex said. "Ruined one of my favorite suits. And…" She stared at her feet. "I've lost a shoe…"

"Me too," Elliott said, looking at the soaked brown sock on his left foot.

"Could've been a lot worse," Alex said shakily. "I'm ok, Bobby…really." Bobby knelt next to her, his hands hovering over her. "How are you?"

Bobby didn't answer. Satisfied that Alex was all right, he slipped and slid to Olivia's side. Olivia saw his face clearly in the fire's light, and terror filled his eyes. "Olivia…" he choked.

"I'm ok," Olivia assured him. "What about you? You were on fire…"

"I…I'm all right." He turned to Elliott. "Thank you."

"Not a problem. Especially when you saved all of us…I was headed for that opposite wall…Would've run right into it."

They heard Munch and Fin desperately calling their names. Bobby struggled to stand, but winced and sat heavily. He rubbed his right knee.

"Take it easy," Elliott said and staggered to his feet. "I'll let 'em know where we are…" He looked at Bobby. "Thank you, Goren, for letting me be able to see my kids again."

Bobby's head reeled for a moment, and he held his head in his hands. He took a deep breath and looked from Alex to Olivia and back again. "Are you both sure you're all right?"

"Just a little singed around the edges," Alex said as she carefully stood. She stared at the fire. "Oh, God…I hope Michael Flynn isn't in there."

"Thank God!" Fin appeared behind Elliott. "You're alive!"

"That's debatable," Bobby murmured.

In spite of all four detectives' vigorous protests, Cragen insisted that they were carted off to the nearest hospital. Elliott and Olivia checked out quickly, and Alex treated for some minor burns. The doctors forced Bobby to stay put for a couple of hours for treatment of burns on his hands and back and a nasty, deep bruise just below his right knee. The hospital allowed them all to take showers to get rid of the smoke and ash that infested their bodies; Cragen arrived to check on their conditions and provide a change of clothes.

"It's not that big a deal," Bobby complained. "It's minor stuff…I'm all right."

"Bobby," Alex said. "Listen to the doctors…"

"Yea," Olivia said in support. Stabler had returned to the burnt out building, but Cragen ordered her and Alex to stay by Bobby's side. "Your lungs may have taken a beating…with those bandages on you can't really hold a gun." Her cell phone rang, and Olivia stepped out of the cubicle.

Alex stepped closer to Bobby's bed; he looked miserable. "Thank you," she said softly.

"What for?" Bobby asked bitterly. "I nearly got us all killed. Got evidence destroyed…I was brilliant…just fucking brilliant…"

"Bobby." Alex gently touched his arm. "All of us went into that building…We all knew it was dangerous…Now we know Bertelli is our guy. We have a good case started. If you hadn't been there, Stabler and Olivia and I would've run right into that fire."

Bobby stared at his bandaged hands. "I…I don't think…I can't imagine Bertelli destroying the place he currently takes the kids…We have to get Veneer and talk to him…"

Alex smiled sadly. "Bobby…Please…Try to take it easy."

Her face a mask, Olivia returned to the cubicle. "The fire didn't destroy everything…The main, large room is pretty much gone…But the fire department got there quickly…They've found several bodies…They don't know how many yet…And the remains of several baseball uniforms." She looked at Bobby admiringly. "You were right…absolutely right…"

"Sometimes I wish I wasn't right," Bobby muttered.

Alex and Olivia shared a concerned look.

"You…you guys should get back to the scene," Bobby said. "I…I'll be ok…"

Olivia turned to Alex, who clearly had more experience dealing with Bobby's black moods.

"Bobby," Alex said patiently. "Cragen wants us to get some rest…We have to wait for the M.E. and CSU…It's a messy scene. There are bulletins out for Bertelli and Veneer. They're not going to get away. But things are on hold right now. Take advantage of this. You're in the hospital. George Flynn and the Brass aren't going to bother you here."

He continued to stare at his hands.

"Cragen says we should get home," Olivia said. "We can get some rest in a real bed for a couple of hours."

"I…I won't sleep well here," Bobby said haltingly. "I've never slept well in hospitals…Too much noise…Too much light…"

One of the impossibly young ER doctors appeared. "Complaining about our accommodations, Detective?"

"Sorry," Bobby said.

"You don't have to apologize," the doctor said. "We all agree here that this is no place to try to rest. You don't have to stay. You're bruised and burned, but nothing major…Although you may not think that tomorrow…We'll let you go home, but you have to promise that you'll take it easy. Just be careful with your hands and use your medicine."

Bobby nodded; he seemed scarcely able to summon the energy to move.

"We'll keep an eye on him," Alex said.

Alex and Olivia silently agreed to head to Olivia's apartment. Bobby slumped in the back seat of the SUV.

"Bobby." Alex turned to him. "Try to shut your brain off…I can hear you thinking up here. I know it's hard, but try to give it a couple of hours rest."

They stumbled into Olivia's apartment. Bobby feebly offered a few words of protest, but meekly allowed the two women to guide him. He again weakly protested when they led him to Olivia's bed, but retreated when they pointed out the longer he argued the less sleep they all got. "Thank you," he mumbled as he fell asleep.

Alex was too tired to fight over Olivia's insistence that she take the couch. Olivia curled up in her largest, most comfortable chair. It was reasonably welcoming even when she wasn't aching for sleep; the most luxurious of feather beds couldn't have felt better in her current condition. She was asleep as soon as she pulled a blanket over her.

Alex woke with a start and winced when her body revolted against the sudden move. "Where?" she thought and remembered she was in Olivia's apartment. "What?" she thought and heard soft cries and whimpers. "Bobby," she thought. She saw Olivia curled in her chair; the other detective stirred slightly. Alex rose carefully and moved quickly to the bedroom.

Bobby twisted on the bed. "No…Please…" he muttered.

"Poor guy," Alex thought. "Completely exhausted, and he still can't get any good sleep." She sat cautiously on the edge of the bed. "Bobby." She touched his shoulder gently. "It's ok…You're all right."

Bobby turned into her touch.

Alex heard a soft sound and saw Olivia standing in the door way. "Is he all right?"

Alex hesitated. It was difficult—sometimes impossible—for her to understand her relationship with Bobby, and always impossible to explain to others. She had no desire to hurt whatever might be developing between Olivia and Bobby, but she also sensed that if anyone could understand and accept her and Bobby's partnership/friendship/psychic link, it was Olivia Benson.

"He doesn't sleep well at the best of times," Alex said softly. "And this isn't one of those."

Bobby stopped whimpering. Alex's presence calmed him.

Olivia leaned against the doorframe. "He trusts you."

"Yea…And I trust him." Alex gently pulled a blanket over Bobby. His nightmares, at least for a moment, appeared at bay. "It took a while, but we worked it out."

"I don't think it's worth trying to back to sleep," Olivia said. "C'mon…I'll fix you a lousy cop of coffee."

"You didn't ask how I know about Bobby's sleeping habits," Alex said as they entered the tiny kitchen.

Olivia filled the coffee maker with water. "I figured that wasn't my business. Besides, Elliott and I are pretty familiar with each other's sleep patterns."

Alex smiled. "It's just…" She placed the sugar and milk Olivia handed to her on the counter. "I don't want you…"

"You don't want me to think you and Bobby are involved," Olivia said gently.

"Yea…I'm sorry…if I'm making any assumptions…"

Olivia poured two cups of coffee and handed one to Alex. "You're not making any," she said softly. "We…Bobby and I talked…and there's something…more than something…But…" She leaned against the counter. Alex poured sugar into her cup. Olivia watched in amazement.

"Sweet tooth," Alex explained. "Never get between me and the Skittles."

"Noted," Olivia said dryly.

"So…you and Bobby…"

Olivia smiled. "I like him a lot…But, what's not to like? He's smart and funny and cute…"

Alex grinned. "Yea…if a six foot four guy can be cute…"

"Look, Alex…I know you're a professional…and one of the best and most honest cops I know…God knows I've had to deal with the rumors about me and my partners, especially Elliott…but…you and Bobby…"

Alex took a long drink of coffee. "It's ok coming from you, Olivia. I know you're not malicious or snoopy…"

Olivia chuckled. "I don't know about that last one."

"All right…a little snoopy…Bobby and I…" Alex looked into the depths of her coffee. "There was one time…a little over three years into our partnership. We had a bad case, especially for him. We were exhausted, so exhausted we couldn't sleep…You know?"

Olivia nodded.

"We went out for a bite to eat after we closed the case…Had a couple of glasses of wine…Maybe more…Bobby took me home, like the gentleman he is…and we had some more wine. We were sitting on my couch…We were a little more than buzzed…not really drunk, but neither of us was fit to drive…And we were goofing off…We started teasing each other…One thing led to another…and…we started making out…Kissing, you know…I don't think Bobby even thought about trying for second base…even when he's a little tight, he's a gentleman…and…" She blushed. "A really good kisser."

Olivia smiled.

"But…I don't know which one of us started giggling first," Alex continued. "It just…I mean I don't know what it's like to kiss your brother, 'cause I never kissed any of my brothers with romantic feelings…But we both knew…It wasn't…isn't…that I don't think he's attractive…I do…And he's told me the same…But the romantic, sexual thing…" Alex shook her head. "I love him…It's not what I felt for Joe…It's not what I feel for my brothers—because I have to love them…but I love him."

Olivia grinned.

"It's confusing…and frustrating…and frightening," Alex said. "And…and it's been really hard lately. What happened to me…his Mom…And Brady did such a number with his head."

"But that case was supposed to be…"

"Such a triumph. Well, it was sorta…" Alex took a deep breath. "But Brady…He insinuated that Bobby's Mom was one of his victims."

Olivia winced.

"I still don't know what happened during his last interview with Brady," Alex admitted. "He wouldn't let me go with him…He told me I had to trust him…and I did…But he won't tell me what happened." She clutched her cup tightly. "His Mom died the same night as Brady's execution."

"He told me," Olivia said gravely. "That his Mom was schizophrenic."

"Good," Alex said after a moment. "He trusts you…He doesn't tell anyone that unless he really trusts them."

"God…How rough has it been for him?"

"Pretty rough, I guess. I've picked up that his father wasn't much. A gambler, probably alcoholic, a skirt chaser. He walked out when Bobby's Mom got bad. His older brother is a screw-up. Lots of addictions."

Olivia looked towards the bedroom. "How did he survive?"

Alex shook her head. "That stuns me about him. Not only survive, but become a good, kind man with those odds against him? I have no idea. But I know he doesn't see things the way most people do because he can't. He sees and analyzes everything because he had to when he was a kid."

"Do you know if he was abused?" Olivia asked, dreading the answer.

"I'm not sure…He's never said he was. I don't think sexually…but there are a lot of other kinds of abuse…" Alex took a long drink of coffee. "There're some things he's said…done…I'm pretty sure he was knocked around physically, emotionally and mentally. I suspect he was neglected a lot. Someone…maybe several someones…have told him he's not worth much."

"That would explain a little about his trouble accepting praise," Olivia said. "It's not fair…He's a good man."

"Yea," Alex agreed. "It really makes me angry when people think he's some genius without feelings. He is a genius, but he has feelings. He's not arrogant. He works really hard. Sometimes he's embarrassed by his own brains. He understands people. It's why he's so good in the interrogation room…You saw that."

Olivia nodded.

"That costs him…a lot…After some of these cases, he's just bleeding." Alex stood and poured another cup of coffee. "I'm probably not helping Bobby's cause here."

Olivia briefly considered Alex's revelations. "It's nice to have warnings," she finally said. "Might have saved me some grief in the past."

"There's another thing…" Alex's confidence slipped away. "You know…what happened to me…I've told you a little…"

"Yea." Olivia's emotional radar was on full alert.

"The person…who…took me…was the daughter of Bobby's mentor…The person who first saw Bobby's gifts…who trained him."

Olivia's mind reeled with this information.

"He was so hurt…Sometimes I think he was more hurt than I was…After…After I recovered…at least physically…My first night home, I couldn't sleep…You know the symptoms…I wasn't going to call my family…and…and that left…"

"Bobby," Olivia said.

"Bobby. He came right away. I think it helped him as much as it did me…It was a way for him to make it up to me…Not that there was anything to make up…There were…are…not as much as before…nights…He'd come and sit in my house…or the chair in my bedroom…or…" Alex hesitated and rushed forward. "And on really bad nights he'd hold me in my bed. Nothing ever happened. I swear. It…it helped…me…him…You're the only one who knows…"

Her head spinning, Olivia sat quietly. "Why…why are you telling me?"

"I…I…It's not that…I…If it's meant to happen between you and Bobby…I want you both…to have some happiness." Alex seemed to be attempting to explain as much to herself as to Olivia. "But…I want you to know what you're facing."

Olivia thought of all the times Elliott pulled her through bad times, of the times she'd helped him, of all the times she'd pushed him away, all of the times he'd pushed her away, afraid that they might cross some line. Alex and Bobby maintained a precarious balance on that line, with both protecting the other without destroying their independence. Olivia knew that if someone was to rat out Alex and Bobby, it wouldn't be her. She couldn't condemn them for saving their partnership and their sanity, but his complicated relationship with his partner was another in the growing list of reasons warning "STAY AWAY!" But how could she not love a man who had fought against such horrible odds and won? A straight man who could enter a woman's bed only to hold and comfort her. Olivia remembered how gently Bobby hugged her; how smooth the silk of his suit felt and how comfortingly rough his stubble felt; how intoxicating the combination of his subtle cologne and own scent smelled.

"He's…he's a challenge," she said softly.

Relieve, Alex smiled.

"Hey," Bobby said shyly from the kitchen entrance. "I smelled coffee." He was dressed, his tie dangling from his shirt collar. He moved with some stiffness, and looked as if he could have benefited from several more hours of sleep. He surveyed the scene, a growing sense of alarm rising in him. "What?" he asked apprehensively.

"Nothing." Olivia smiled. "Need some help with your tie?"

Alex moved to get Bobby coffee. "Don't worry, Bobby. We were just talking about you."

He watched nervously as Olivia tied his tie. "Thank you," he said softly. "I could do it myself, but this is a big help."

"Nice tie," Olivia said as she looped the silk. "Elliott's always complaining he has to depend on what his kids give him."

Bobby felt slightly dizzy, but he didn't know if the sensation came from a lack of sleep, a lack of food, the painkiller he'd reluctantly ingested a few hours earlier, or Olivia's closeness to him.

"Here," Alex said pushing a cop of coffee towards Bobby. "I say we let her in our club…She makes her coffee really strong."

Bobby gratefully drank the black liquid.

"How do you feel?" Olivia asked.

"Not too bad considering last night…or this morning," Bobby answered.

"Your back ok?" Alex asked.

"Not bad…Feels like a bad sunburn…My hands are just an annoyance."

"You know," Olivia said cautiously. "Cragen let it be known he wouldn't be upset if you got some rest today."

Bobby shook his head. "Bertelli's spooked. He's going to make mistakes. And Michael Flynn isn't getting any breaks."

Olivia's cell rang in the living room, and she moved to get it.

"Olivia's right," Alex said gently. "After all you've done…after last night…No one expects you…"

Bobby stared into his coffee. "I wouldn't get any rest," he said softly. "We're so close…"

Olivia, visibly excited, entered the kitchen. "That was Elliott…They picked up Gregory Veneer at JFK…He's being brought in for questioning."

END CHAPTER NINE


	10. Chapter 10

Warning: This chapter does have depictions of violence.

Chapter Ten

They shared a cab to the SVU Squad Room. Bobby winced as he slid in its back seat. "Nothing," he responded to Alex and Olivia's concerned looks. "I'm just too old to treat my body the way I did last night." But both women noted Bobby moved stiffly and frequently shifted positions during the drive. He awkwardly got out of the cab. "My knee," he admitted as they walked into the building. "I bruised it during Bertelli's interview and banged it again going out the window. But it's just a bad bruise. The doctors said so…"

"They also told you to take it easy," Alex said.

"And didn't think you'd insist on coming in to work today," Olivia added.

"Please," Bobby pleaded. "We're close…I'm sure…I just need to get through until the end of the case…You both can understand that…"

"Yea," Alex said. "But that won't keep us from worrying about you."

"I…I appreciate it…but…" Bobby ran a hand through his hair and winced. "But," he explained. "Please…you're the…the two most important people in my life…I…I need…I need your support." He stared shyly at the floor.

Olivia didn't know Bobby as well as Alex, but she recognized the great concession he'd just made. Alex, who did know him, was stunned.

"You have that," Olivia said gently.

Cragen met them at the office entrance. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised to see you here," he said with a mixture of frustration and admiration. "Especially you, Goren."

Bobby stared at his feet.

"I could order you home," Cragen said.

Bobby's head shot up; fear flashed in his eyes.

"But I doubt you'd get any rest," the Captain continued. "And after all you've done in this case, it wouldn't be fair." Cragen nodded towards the interrogation rooms. "Veneer's in Room 2. He doesn't want a lawyer, but he's not saying much. He admits knowing Bertelli—he could hardly deny it, when we've got photos of them together—but he claims they just know each other from the baseball leagues."

Huang and Munch stood outside the interrogation room.

"So," Munch said. "Have a good time last night?"

"Nothing like nearly getting fried to a crisp," Alex replied.

Bobby moved next to Huang. "You ok?" the psychiatrist asked.

"Been better," Bobby admitted. "Been worse." He looked inside the room. "What's Veneer like?"

"Charming, intelligent, and almost completely amoral. A predator. One that thinks the children are seducing him. But not a killer. Not without Bertelli's influence."

"You've learned that pretty quickly," Alex said.

"Stabler and Fin have done a good job," Huang answered. "But Veneer's smooth…He hasn't admitted to anything."

"Should I go in?" Bobby asked.

"You seem to be the master in there," Munch said.

"Yea," Bobby muttered. "What a thing to be good at." He walked into the room."

Bobby's appearance was a happy surprise to Stabler and Fin. Veneer maintained his charming exterior. Fin, responding to a silent agreement among the detectives, rose and left the room.

"Goren ok?" he asked as he joined the group outside the interrogation room.

"He thinks so," Alex said.

Inside the room, Bobby sat quietly at Stabler's side, letting the SVU detective take the lead. Veneer eyed him with increasing nervousness. Bobby finally leaned forward.

"He told you about me, right?"

"Who…who told me what?" Veneer asked.

"And I'm not what he told you I was," Bobby continued.

"I…I don't know…"

"Oh, c'mon…" Bobby leaned back in his chair. "Bertelli…before he tried to burn us and the evidence up…He ran right to you…"

Veneer tried to maintain a nonchalant attitude, but he looked nervously to Stabler.

"Look," Bobby said, leaning forward again. "I've got nothing against you…You're not a hypocrite like Bertelli…You seem to be a good guy…But I need to tell you…Bertelli is in a lot of trouble…"

"He's a cop," Veneer said quickly. "You'll protect him…"

"Not from this," Stabler said. He was happy to play bad cop to Bobby's good. "We've got dead kids. It's going to take a while to identify them, but we will. They were found at your family's property. You're linked to them. You have a record." His voice was as cold as his icy blue eyes.

Veneer turned to Bobby.

"Greg…Do you mind if I call you Greg? Or is it Gregory?"

"Greg…is just fine…"

"Look…I don't know what Bertelli told you…Probably something about how sloppy and careless we are and that we weren't smart enough to connect you to anything…But you're smart…We can see that. You can see that we're organized. We found you. We found your connections with the kids and Bertelli. You probably know that we played him. What did he tell you about his interview?" Bobby leaned closer to Veneer. "That he was in control? He wasn't. He ran out of here like a scared rabbit."

"Yes," Stabler agreed. "Led us right to you. Then ran out of here like a scared kid. The kind you like so much."

Veneer again turned for comfort from Bobby. "I…Bertelli…and me…we…uh…we're sorta friends…"

"So you're friends now," Bobby said. "I don't see him here to help you, Greg…I'm afraid he's left you dangling on the end of the rope."

"Let's just send this guy to Riker's," Stabler said with disgust. "And let the guards and animals know how he likes to rape little boys…"

"No!" Veneer shouted in fear and rage. "I…I never…You don't understand…John understands."

Bobby looked at Veneer with great curiosity. "What does John understand, Greg? That it's not you…That it's the boys…"

Veneer looked at Bobby. "Yes…yes," he said excitedly. "That's it. Everyone thinks that these boys are innocent…pure…But they're not…John and I saw it…How they become corrupted…They were tempted…And they always gave in…John brought them to me…to test them…"

Veneer ignored the look that crossed between Bobby and Stabler. Rage and despair rose in the two detectives; they both had vague, horrible ideas about what those "tests" might be.

"John's nephew, Tony…He was the first?" Bobby asked, hiding his disgust.

"Yes…I did nothing wrong," Veneer spluttered. "He seduced me…He failed the test…"

"All of these boys…Did any of them pass the test?" Bobby asked.

"They were all evil…All corrupt…John knew," Veneer stammered.

"Was killing them part of the "test"?" Stabler asked bitterly.

"No! They were alive…All of them were alive when I left them." Veneer again turned to Bobby for support, but the good cop had completely disappeared. Veneer shrank back in his chair.

"What kind of test requires a child to be bound and gagged," Bobby asked coldly. "How could they seduce you when they were terrified and tortured?"

"No! No!" Veneer cried. He leaped from his chair and backed up against the wall.

"Bertelli brought you these boys…These troubled, confused boys," Bobby declared. "And then you tortured and raped and murdered them."

"No…no…" Veneer appeared to be trying to claw through the concrete wall. "All of them…They were alive when I left them with John…I swear…"

"Where?" Stabler asked. "Where did you leave them?"

Veneer was a trapped rat; his eyes darted around the room. "This…this won't last in court…My lawyer…"

"You told us you didn't want a lawyer, remember?" Stabler said.

"But that's what John told you to do, wasn't it?" Bobby was eerily calm. "To not ask for a lawyer…to cooperate…"

A confused Veneer stared at Bobby as he desperately tried to sense which cop he faced.

"But he would tell you that, wouldn't he? So that you'd make mistakes…Tell us things…and leave us with you…" Bobby again leaned back in his chair and gestured for Veneer to sit down. Looking warily at Stabler, Veneer sat uneasily. "He's setting you up, Greg."

"And for a cop like him…with his mind…He's done a good job," Stabler said. "But not us. We're better…smarter than that…We can see what he's done."

"We know you're not the only person involved in this…I tend to believe you…that the boys were alive when you left them with John," Bobby said. "But we have a lot of bodies…a lot of missing boys…It'd be easy to blame you for all of it…and all of them."

Veneer stared at his hands for a moment. "I…I met him…at first…in the baseball leagues…At the place where the fire was…That was the first place we took them…" He swallowed. "The last few years…" Veneer looked up at Bobby and gave him an address. Bobby and Stabler rose from their chairs, and Stabler rushed out of the room.

"This boy," Bobby said quietly. He placed a photo of Michael Flynn on the table.

Veneer couldn't hide his hunger and regret as he looked at the photo. "He…he's there…We haven't tested him yet…We haven't prepared him completely…"

"Prepare?" Bobby asked. His elation at learning Michael was alive was tempered by Veneer's ominous words.

Defeated, Veneer stared at the photo. "We…we get the kids to trust us…Tell them we can take care of them…Give them more fun…Get back at their parents…"

The detectives found themselves in a scene eerily similar to the one of several hours earlier. This time, Bobby and Alex shared the SUV with Elliott and Olivia.

"You think he's still alive?" Olivia asked anxiously.

Bobby, a lump in the back seat, stared out the window. "I…I think we can hope…I don't think Bertelli would kill him before his "test"…"

"Look," Alex said from the seat next to him. "Even you can't predict everything."

"Yea," Elliott said from the driver's seat. "But you were great in the interrogation…You broke Veneer very fast…"

"You…more than half of it was you," Bobby said. "You picked up on what we needed to do."

"You think Bertelli will be there?" Olivia asked.

"I hope so…if he is there…We may have a hostage situation." Bobby shifted uncomfortably.

"Ok?" Alex asked.

Bobby smiled wearily. "My back itches, my knee hurts, and I need some sleep. Other than that, I'm in great shape."

"You hands?" Alex felt some relief that Bobby acknowledged his body had some limits.

"Uh…" Bobby glanced at his bandaged hands. "They itch a little…They're mostly an annoyance. I'm not going to be able to hold a gun very well."

"Right," Elliott said. "We don't want you using your gun."

"You never want him to use his gun," Alex said dryly. "Bobby's a great detective, but he'll never win a marksmanship contest."

"Yea…passing the weapons requirements is always a challenge. My partner, on the other hand…" He looked admiringly at Alex.

"There." Olivia pointed at a decrepit building on the right.

"Great," Elliott said. "Looks like a rabbit hole."

It was smaller than the warehouse. The building stood by itself in the middle of several destroyed structures. The Veneer family was apparently making a tidy profit out of turning the area into apartments and shops. The battered five story building was the last scheduled for destruction, and the project's manager was not happy to learn his work might be delayed by a criminal investigation. Even Cragen's attempts to reason with him failed until a weary Bobby pulled out several photos of the missing boys and waved them in front of the man. "The hell with the Veneers and their precious schedule," the man said. "I've got two boys of my own." The manager provided the police with a sketchy map of the interior, and the detectives, encased in protective vests, followed the assault team into the dark building.

The only way in was through the basement. The entry was once a garage, and inside the group discovered a Westchester County police car.

"Bertelli," Elliott whispered.

"He wouldn't go far from his car," Bobby answered.

"Detectives," one of the other cops said shakily. "You need to see this…"

The team had managed to break down a heavily barred door. The open door revealed several packages heavily wrapped with plastic; the sharp, heavy smell of lime reeked in the room.

"Oh, Damn," Alex said.

"They're here," Olivia said sadly. "The boys…"

"Quiet," Bobby said sharply. "Listen…"

There were muffled voices and steps over their heads.

"Upstairs!" Bobby shouted and grabbed the map. There were two staircases; Bobby and Alex followed several members of the assault squad up one, while Olivia and Elliot followed others up the stairs on the other side.

The building's first floor was one large, open room. Religious statues and paintings filled the room and lined the walls. Two large bookshelves leaned against one of the walls. Bobby head straight for these; Olivia, Alex, and Elliott searched the room with the other cops.

"Bertelli," Bobby said as he ran a finger over the books' spines. "This is his domain…His place…He's got some religious mania…"

"I'm Catholic," Elliott said, very puzzled and slightly defensive. "And I don't recognize most of these paintings and books…"

"It's obscure, fringe stuff…not recognized by the Church…Or any branch or related faith. It's not Catholic. It's Bertelli's own delusional beliefs," Bobby said tensely.

Alex started at Bobby's use of the word "delusional"; it was not one he casually tossed out.

Bobby looked up at the ceiling. "He's going up," he declared. "Get your guys on the roof," he said to the squad's commander. "And make sure the ones watching the car are on their guard. We'll check the floors."

The next floor was abandoned and empty; only spiders greeted the detectives. Olivia and Elliott, approaching from one side, found the door to the third floor locked to them. "We've got a locked door," Olivia reported by radio to Alex.

"We've got an unlocked one," Alex said.

"Be careful."

Bobby stood, his right hand on the knob and his left awkwardly holding his gun. "Ready?" he whispered. Alex nodded and held her gun steady.

Olivia's heart pounded so wildly that she thought everyone in the building must hear it. "Please," she thought. "Don't let him get hurt. Please…" Elliott waited tensely at her side. Seconds ticked by with agonizing slowness. They heard soft murmurs, followed by quick footsteps. The lock tumbled and clicked, and the doorknob turned with a terrible squawk.

"Hey!" Alex called through the door. "Can you guys pull while we push on this?"

The door sprang open under their combined efforts. Olivia and Elliott blinked in the dim light.

"This," Bobby said grimly and sadly. "Is where they performed their "tests"."

The SVU detectives couldn't quite make out all the details of the room; what they could see made them grateful for that fact.

"I suppose," Alex said in a voice filled with shock and sorrow. "You guys have to deal with this sort of thing a lot."

"Yea," Olivia said, looking around the room. "But you never get used to it."

"If you do, you need to get out," Stabler said. "Oh, God, these poor kids…"

The muscles in Bobby's neck and jaw pulsed. He was so angry he couldn't trust his voice. He shivered.

"Bobby…You ok?" Alex moved behind him.

"No…no I'm not," he said through clenched teeth. "I'm tired and I'm hurt and I'm angry…" With great effort, he calmed. "Sorry…sorry…"

"Goren…no one will blame you if you need to back off," Elliott said quietly. "You've performed miracles…"

"Thank you…but…I want…need to follow this through," Bobby said, his rage under control.

"Promise me we can sleep for a week after this," Alex said.

"Deal," Bobby said.

Olivia's radio crackled. "Bertelli's on the roof," she reported to the other detectives. "He's got Michael Flynn…And he's screaming for you." She looked at Bobby.

"This guy is very angry," the assault squad commander said. "And we can't get a fix on his location. There's a lot of broken down brick work up here…He could be behind any of it…We're calling in a chopper, but I don't know if that'll help. He says he's got a knife at the kid's throat and a gun."

"Did you see the kid?" Bobby asked. He tried to peer around the roof's crumbling chimneys and walls, but couldn't see Bertelli or Michael.

"One of my guys got a glimpse…Said he looked loopy…Like he'd been drugged…" the commander said. "Look, Detective…you know the drill…Try to get him out in the open."

"Easier said than done," Bobby said. "This guy's thinking is limited, but he's not stupid. A bully and a coward, but not stupid."

"Bobby…Please…Be careful," Alex said.

Standing next to Elliott, Olivia fought the impulse to rush up to Bobby and wrap her arms around him.

Bobby took a deep breath. He looked over his shoulder and met Olivia's eyes.

"Please," she thought. "Come back…I care about you…I care for you…Please…I want to show you…"

He gave her a quick sad smile and stepped out from the landing.

"Stop there!" Bertelli shouted. "Stop there or I'll slit his throat before I shoot you!"

Bobby stopped; he couldn't see where Bertelli was.

"Bertelli," he called. "C'mon…We can…"

"Shut up!" Bobby saw a flicker of movement in the shadows of one of the crumbling chimneys. "Take off that vest!"

Bobby quickly slid off the vest and dropped it. At this close range it offered little protection and only hampered his movement.

"What's on your hands?" Bertelli yelled.

Bobby raised them. "Bandages."

"You walked right into that, didn't you?" Bertelli gloated. "Smart, big city cop. Big hero. I've seen your name in the papers."

Bobby struggled to control his emotions. "The fire, John…"

"Captain!" Bertelli screamed. "You show me respect!"

"Captain," Bobby said calmly. He moved closer to the shadow. "The fire didn't destroy everything…We found the bodies…the uniforms."

There was a long silence. Bobby heard the hot summer wind, the distant traffic, the far off whipping of a helicopter's blades.

"We've talked to Greg. That's how we found about this place."

A muffled cry came from the shadow, and Bobby saw the glint of a knife.

"Shut up, you evil…" Bertelli muttered.

Bobby inched closer; he could see Bertelli now, huddled against the brick and holding a knife to Michael Flynn's throat. The disheveled and dazed boy was fighting his way out of a fog.

"Look at me," Bobby thought. "Look at me and know that I'll get you out of this."

"Stop!" Bertelli screamed. "Come any closer and I'll kill him!"

Bobby stopped. The hot sun beat mercilessly on him, and a terrible thirst seized him. Sweat trickled down his face, and it made his burned back itch. His knee throbbed painfully, and exhaustion pulled at his mind. "Please," he begged his body. "Just a little more…Give me just a little more…I'll let you rest…"

Michael struggled feebly; Bertelli strengthened his grip. "Be quiet, you evil…"

"Captain," Bobby said as if he were about to ask for help with a form. "How do you know he's evil?"

Bertelli's head moved.

"Greg told us that you hadn't tested him yet," Bobby said.

"We…we haven't had the chance," Bertelli answered. "But he's just like the others…He'll fail…He'll let…I see it in him…He won't be able to avoid temptation…"

"I don't understand, Sir," Bobby said respectfully. "The test…If the boys were drugged…If they were restrained…How could they make a decision?"

"They…they should fight…They shouldn't take the drugs…Greg…Greg said they all took the drugs." There was a desperate edge to Bertelli's voice.

Bobby moved stealthily closer; he could clearly see Michael Flynn's eyes. The dazed look was nearly gone, replaced by a terrible fear. Bobby's eyes met the boy's, and he willed Michael to trust him.

"Sir, did you ever see what happened between the boys and Greg? Do you know that they willingly took the drugs?" Bobby's retained its calm, gentle tone. He moved closer to Bertelli and Michael. He could see Bertelli clearly now. His uniform was torn and stained, his tie and hat missing.

"Greg…Greg told me…" Doubt entered Bertelli's voice.

"Sir, I don't think you should trust Greg. He's betrayed you already…I know you were trying to save the boys…But he betrayed you and them…He used you." Bobby was close enough to reach out and touch Michael. "Don't rush," he thought. "Don't move too soon…Just concentrate on getting the boy out of this…"

"No…No…" Bertelli muttered. "I…I'm the savior…I'm saving these boys from hell."

"Sir…Are you saving them? Really?"

"Yes!...Yes! I'm keeping them from sin!"

Bobby sensed the man slipping away. It was time. "But, Sir, you said that they all gave in to temptation…So, when they died, they weren't in a state of grace…They had a sin…a mortal sin…on their souls…They didn't have a chance to confess…They didn't receive the Last Rites…They didn't get a Christian burial." Bobby met Bertelli's eyes. "You condemned them to hell."

"No! No!" Bertelli screamed. For the briefest of moments, he released his grip on Michael.

Bobby grabbed Michael and spun so that his large bulk shielded the boy. Enraged, Bertelli struck out with the knife. Stabler and Fin rushed forward. They had their guns drawn, but had no clear shot. Dodging Bertelli's wildly flailing arm, they seized him and threw him to the ground.

"Run!" Bobby gasped to Michael. "Run to those detectives!" He pointed to Olivia and Alex. "They'll help you!"

Michael flew away from Bobby and to Olivia and Alex.

Bertelli screamed and cursed, most of the latter directed at Bobby.

Bobby wavered, stumbled and fell heavily to his knees.

"Bobby!" Alex and Olivia screamed.

Their voices clawed at the darkness surrounding him. Bobby stared at his hands; bright, crimson spotted the white bandages. He stared at his chest, where a scarlet plume grew on his white shirt. He pitched forward on to the hot roof.

END Chapter Ten


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

He wanted to sleep. If he could sleep, the pain would stop. The pain was everywhere—in his back, his chest, his knee, his head—but if he could sleep it might stop. But someone was calling his name, pulling him away from the darkness and bringing him back to the bright light.

"No…No…" he murmured. "It…it hurts…please…"

Alex and Olivia both pleaded with him.

He fought to speak. He blinked, and the bright sunshine sent slivers of pain into his eyes. The roof felt hot against his skin; something wet and sticky covered him.

"Bobby," Olivia said desperately. "Hang on…the EMTs are coming. Please…" She tenderly stroked his head.

Something clutched his left hand. He turned, and a wave of pain swept over him. The darkness threatened to take him.

"Bobby." Alex's desperate voice reached him and pulled him from the darkness. He focused on her.

"Mi…Michael?" he gasped.

"All right," Alex assured him.

"I…I…" He gripped her hand tightly.

"Don't talk." Olivia's voice was soft and soothing. "Take it easy…"

"I…I'm sorry…" His eyes moved from Alex to Olivia and back. "Thank you…both…"

In spite of the heat rising from the black roof, Bobby began to shiver.

"Hang on Bobby…Please…" Alex and Olivia's voices again pulled him from the darkness. His head now rested in Olivia's lap. He tried to speak. He wanted to tell Olivia how much he cared for her, how he might be in love with her, how much her kindness in the past days had meant, but he couldn't form the words.

"Don't try to talk…Try to stay calm…"

The EMTs appeared, blurring in and out of Bobby's vision. He was barely aware of them as he tried to concentrate on Alex and Olivia. There was so much he wanted to tell them. About Brady and his mother; he wanted to thank Alex for her patience, her kindness, for being the best friend he'd ever had. He wanted to tell Olivia how much joy her presence gave to him. He tried to speak, but there wasn't enough air; he could scarcely breathe. Word filtered through a painful fog; "stab…slashed…blood." He felt pricks on his arms and saw the EMTs attach tubes and wires. The techs spoke to him. "Detective Goren…hang on." Everyone told him to hang on. It meant so much to everyone that he tried to do it. But he was so tired, so weak, and it seemed to him that if he could only sleep that pain would stop. He saw Alex and Olivia's mouths move as they spoke. Cragen's worried face loomed over one of the tech's shoulders. He was moved to a stretcher, and Bobby cried out. He weaved in and out of the darkness as the techs carried him down the stairs. They finally reached the ambulance. Pain distorted his vision, and Alex's face hovered above him.

"Only one of us could come," she said. He clung to her voice like a drowning man grips a life preserver. "Olivia is riding with Michael Flynn. We talked and thought that would work best." He wondered that he could hear her so clearly above the scream of the siren. "Olivia's dealt with kids in similar situations…She wanted to come with you, Bobby…She really did." Her voice calmed him. He fumbled for her with his left hand; Alex caught and held it. "I got the right to ride with you…Seniority…But she cares about you, Bobby…She cares a lot."

"I promise," Bobby thought. "If I get through this, I promise I'll tell them the truth." It was his last lucid, complete thought.

Alex continued talking to Bobby throughout the ride to the hospital. She fought to keep the terror out of her voice. There was so much blood. When the EMTs arrived on the scene, they thought that Alex and Olivia must be injured. Bobby's blood soaked them, and Alex couldn't believe that a human body could lose that much blood and survive. The argument over who would ride with Bobby in the ambulance was very brief. Olivia deferred to Alex's much longer association with Bobby. "Besides," she said. "I need to ride with Michael. I need to do my job."

Throughout the ride, Bobby drifted in and out of consciousness. At several points the techs moved Alex aside to perform some function. When they finally reached the hospital, the doctors and nurses allowed Alex to accompany Bobby to the edge of the emergency room, but gently forced her to stay outside. Alone, lost, and very afraid, Alex stood in front of the door.

"Alex," Olivia asked in frightened but concerned voice. "What's happening…"

"I…I don't know…they just took him in…"

"Michael…We just got here…I think he'll be ok…They're examining him now. Cragen is dealing with the scene, but he'll be here as soon as he can." Olivia stared at Alex. "Oh God, Alex…You're covered in blood."

"So…so are you…" Alex blinked.

Olivia stared at her clothes. "No wonder Michael kept staring at me and asking me if I was all right. He's a sweet kid, Alex…Very brave…very worried about Bobby…He said he looked in Bobby's eyes and knew he could trust him…That he'd be all right…"

"He'll be all right," Alex said.

"He has to be," Olivia said. "I have to be able to tell him…" She trembled.

"C'mon," Alex said. "Over there."

They stumbled together to the waiting area. For a few moments neither spoke."

"The ambulance," Olivia finally asked. "What happened?"

Alex rubbed her eyes and was suddenly aware she left bloody streaks on her face. "He…There was so much blood," she said. "He was trying so hard to hang on, but…but…he was in so much pain."

"He had to be so damn brave," Olivia said.

"I know," Alex agreed. "But that's what he is."

"Yea," Olivia said. "I guess…I know…It's why we love him."

"Yea," Alex said.

"Olivia…Detective Eames…My God…Are you all right?" Captain Cragen stood and stared at them.

"We're fine, Captain." Olivia stood.

"You're both covered in blood," Cragen said in awe.

"It's…it's Bobby's," Alex said and began to shake.

Olivia sat quickly next to her. "Alex…"

Cragen disappeared but returned in seconds with a cup of water. "Here…"

Alex drank it quickly. "Thank you…Sorry…Sorry…It was all a little too much."

"It's all right," Cragen said. "This case is costing a lot. I'll see if I can't get someone to bring you a change of clothes. There should be some place where you can get cleaned up."

"Someone should call Ross," Alex said.

"Ross knows," Cragen said gently. "Major Case is offering us a great deal of help. I left him in charge at the scene. Elliott and Fin and Munch are dealing with Bertelli.'

A rush of voices and lights exploded at the ER entrance. Surrounded by lights, cameras, and reporters, George and Maria Flynn appeared.

"Don't worry," Cragen said. He straightened his shoulders and prepared to do battle. "I'll keep the Flynns and the press away. Your assignment is to let me know how Goren is doing…Both of you…That's your order."

"Think he knows we couldn't do much else right now?" Alex asked as Cragen left.

Olivia smiled wearily. "He's pretty perceptive."

An impossibly young nurse with mahogany colored skin appeared. "Are you…" She looked at Alex and Olivia in shock. "Are you all right?"

"Yes." Olivia stood. "We were with Robert Goren…"

"The detective who was hurt," Alex added. She stood on shaky legs.

The nurse looked at them with dark, sympathetic eyes. "Mr. Goren is stable. He's being taken up to surgery."

"Can we see him?" Alex failed to hide her anxiety.

"I'm afraid not," the nurse said gently. "He needs to get there fairly quickly. But I can show you to the surgical unit's waiting room…And if you'd like…I can also show you where some showers are and get you some scrubs to wear…"

"We…don't want to miss any news," Olivia said.

"You won't," the young woman assured them. "Mr. Goren will be in surgery for some time."

"How…how bad is it?" Alex asked, fearing the answer.

The nurse hesitated. "I don't want to frighten you…Mr. Goren lost a lot of blood…One of his lungs collapsed…But our doctors are the best…And he's obviously very strong…There's a lot of reason to be optimistic."

Olivia and Alex stood digesting the information.

"Ok," Olivia said. "Alex, we might as well get cleaned up…"

"And then we can buy each other lousy cups of coffee," Alex said.

"I understand" the nurse said. "That Mr. Goren saved the life of a boy? That he got in the way of a man trying to stab him?"

"Yes," Alex said softly.

"He's a real hero," the young woman said admiringly.

"Yea," Olivia agreed. "But he probably thinks he was only doing his job."

"We'll take very good care of him," the nurse said as she guided them to the showers.

"Thank we can salvage any of our clothes?" Alex called from her stall.

"I doubt it," Olivia said as she peeled off her bloody garments. "And I know we won't get the cost back."

"Ah, the joys of the New York City detective," Alex said.

Olivia smiled and stepped under the hot water. She struggled not to dwell on the fact that in another part of the hospital Bobby fought for his life. "Oh, God," she prayed. "Please…please take care of him. Please let him be all right…He's a good man…He's suffered so much…He's tried to do good and done so much good…I know you don't make deals…But I'll take care of him…Please."

In her shower, Alex allowed the hot water to pound her aching muscles. She also tried not to think of Bobby lying helplessly on an operating table. The mess of feelings in her mind was familiar, and Alex nearly fell to her knees when she realized that it was very much like what she felt when she waited for news of her dying husband. "No," she thought. "Not again…I can't…" She leaned against the wet tile and shook with the effort of trying to control her emotions.

Olivia dragged her body from the shower. The promised scrubs waited for her and Alex. They made a comfortable temporary uniform. Olivia heard the water in Alex's shower stop, and the smaller detective soon joined Olivia, who tried not to smile. Alex swam in the scrubs and had rolled up the pants to keep from tripping on them.

"Don't," Alex warned.

"I'm trying not to," Olivia said. "For one thing, if I start laughing, I probably won't stop until I cry."

"Yea."

They pinned their shields to the scrubs—their guns were safely in the hospital's safe—and made their way to the surgical waiting room. Cops already filled the halls. Those who knew Alex and/or Olivia asked about Bobby. Many of them bore the rolled up sleeves and bandage of a blood donor. In the waiting room, a long silence settled between the two women. They were too exhausted and frightened to speak. Another young nurse—Olivia thought that the hospital staff all looked as if they'd just graduated high school—entered the room, and the two detectives viewed him with dread and anticipation.

"Mr. Goren's not out of surgery yet," he said gently. "I just need to confirm some information."

Alex and Olivia sagged.

"Ms. Eames," the nurse continued. "You're Mr. Goren's medical representative?"

Alex nodded.

"There's no family?"

"There's a brother…but I don't know where he is…Bobby isn't close to him."

"All right," the nurse said. "But you might want to try to find him."

Alex sighed. "Believe me, we don't."

"He…he really is alone," Olivia said as the nurse left. "He hasn't mentioned his brother…Of course, I haven't known him that long…"

Alex fixed her eyes on the drab carpet. "He…he's always been alone…and he doesn't deserve it…"

"He has you," Olivia said gently.

Alex looked up. "And you…"

Olivia sat next to her. "Yea."

They were exhausted and full of worry. They drifted in and out of light sleep, desperately needing it but unable to keep images of Bobby out of their minds. Time lost shape and meaning, and neither Alex or Olivia knew if two, three, or even four hours had passed when Elliott and Fin walked in the room.

"How's Goren?" Fin asked immediately.

Olivia shook her head wearily. "We don't know. He's in surgery. It's been a while…How long has it been, Alex?"

"I…I don't know," Alex answered. "I can't remember when they took him in…"

Elliott sat carefully across from Olivia and Alex. "Have you heard anything?"

"No," Alex said. "But…but he lost a lot of blood…He was so white…and pale." She buried her face in her hands.

"He'll be ok, Eames," Fin said as he sat across from her. "He's tough…he's strong…"

"But…Fin," Alex said. "He was so tired…Exhausted…And there was so much blood…Olivia and I…We were soaked in it…Our clothes…" She choked.

"He'll be all right. We have to believe that," Elliott said, looking at Olivia as he spoke.

"What's going on with Bertelli?" Olivia asked, desperate to get away from her dark thoughts about Bobby.

"We got him booked," Fin said. "Cragen told us to get out of the squad room when got that done. I think he hoped we'd go home, but knew we'd come here."

"The scene…is horrible," Elliott said. "At least ten bodies…They're in better shape than the ones where the fire was. We found Bertelli's records…names, dates, what…what they did to the boys…their "sins"…" He turned a ghastly green.

"There." Alex pointed in the direction of the rest rooms.

Elliott lurched away.

"That bad," Olivia muttered. "It takes a lot to get Elliott physically ill."

"It…it's awful," Fin said. "Bertelli is so methodical, so organized."

A weary John Munch walked in. "I'm off duty," he declared. "I don't want to talk about it. But I might as well since it's going to give me nightmares for the rest of my life." He looked at his fellow detectives. "Cragen wants you all to get some rest. Nothing can be done until the CSU guys finish…And that may take some time."

Elliott, his face the color of ash, slipped in the room.

"C'mon, Munch," Fin said. "Let's go give some blood for a brother…"

"I don't think I'm Goren's type," Munch replied.

"Lord, I hope not," Fin retorted.

For the next two hours, the detectives gave blood, ate or tried to eat the tasteless sandwiches provided by the blood bank, drank lousy coffee, and talked of everything except what dominated their minds. And they waited. Cragen, with rolled up sleeves and looking as if the weight of the world crushed his shoulders, appeared.

"I'm sorry," he said as he saw Alex and Olivia in the scrubs. "I…I forgot…"

"It's ok, Captain," Olivia quickly assured him. "There's a lot going on…"

"It's a feeding frenzy." Cragen sat heavily. "The press is all over this. We're getting calls from everywhere from families with missing sons. Major Case is giving us help." He looked at Alex. "I talked to Ross. He'll be here as soon as he can."

"Excuse me." Another young member of the staff entered the waiting room. "You're waiting for news on Robert Goren?"

Alex sprang to her feet. "Yes! Do you…"

"I'm Dr. Wang…I'm one of the surgeons who operated on Mr. Goren."

"One of," Olivia thought. "How many did it take?"

"He came through the surgery well, and his condition is stable now. There are a lot of reasons to be optimistic…But…"

"I hate "Buts"," Munch muttered.

"Mr. Goren lost a lot of blood," Wang continued. "His heart failed briefly while he was on the table.

Alex and Olivia blanched and wavered; Fin and Elliott stood to steady them.

"But we got him back immediately…We managed to get blood to stay in him…One of his lungs collapsed and there was damage to several major blood vessels. But we were able to repair the damage. He seems to be very strong and to have a great will to live. But he's also seemed to be exhausted."

"Can we see him?" Alex asked eagerly.

"He's in critical care," Wang replied. "Only one person at a time."

Alex turned to Olivia. "You go first, Olivia. I rode with him in the bus. It's only fair.

"Thank you," Olivia said softly.

"I have to warn you," Wang said as he led Olivia to Bobby. "He looks pretty awful…He's on a ventilator to take some stress off his lung. As soon as we're sure the lung won't collapse again, we'll get him off of that. He's heavily sedated and bandaged."

Wang stopped at the first glass room in the unit. Olivia's heart jumped. Bobby was propped up in bed; tubes snaked in and out of his body. Olivia had never seen anyone so white who was still alive. Heavy white bandages covered his chest and shoulders. Olivia had never seen Bobby so still. Even in his recent exhausted state, Bobby was in almost constant motion, his eyes flying across reports, his finger—those beautiful, long, elegant fingers—tapping nervously as he talked on the phone, or pacing restlessly as he organized his thoughts. Now only the rising and falling of his chest and the occasional flutter of his eyelashes revealed that he was alive.

"Oh, Bobby," Olivia whispered as she sat in the stiff plastic chair next to the bed. "I barely know you, and I'm in love with you…" She gripped his right hand. It was terribly cold.

END CHAPTER 11


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The stiff plastic chair next to Bobby's bed received a heavy workout in the coming hours. Alex replaced Olivia after a few hours. Cragen briefly spelled Olivia and Alex when Fin and Elliott left to deal with the case. Alex was curled on a waiting room couch trying to will the image of a cold and still Bobby out of her mind when Captain Danny Ross appeared.

"Captain," Alex said as she sat up and rubbed her eyes.

"Alex." She had never heard so much concern in Ross' voice. "Are you ok?"

"Nothing sleep can't solve," Alex replied.

"And Goren?"

"He…he's stable…The doctors are…optimistic…but…" She took a deep breath. "He lost so much blood. He was exhausted…But if he can just get through the next few hours…"

"What he did…It was remarkable," Ross said. "The press is saying he's a hero, and I agree."

"Probably the same press that's beaten him up in the past," Alex said wearily. "He was brilliant with this case. The SVU people were great, too…"

"Don Cragen is pretty impressed with both of you," Ross said. "Both of you did great work. This is a huge case, and the NYPD is getting credit for breaking it. Michael Flynn was the first of the disappearances that fell into our jurisdiction since Tony Genoa's. Goren was the first detective to catch the pattern."

"Only after over twenty boys were killed…I'm sure Bobby will be thrilled," Alex said sadly.

"The rest of the Squad will visit here when they can. We've helping SVU, and things are…" Ross hesitated. "Hectic. Everyone in Major Case is proud of the two of you."

"Tell Bobby that," Alex said with more emotion than she intended. "It would mean a lot to him."

"I will," Ross promised. "Besides, if I want to keep him in Major Case, I'll need to treat him well. The Chief of Detectives is inclined to give Goren any spot he wants. And the FBI is extremely impressed."

"He won't want that," Alex said. "He's said over and over again Major Case is where he wants to be. And can you see him working for the FBI?" Alex rubbed her eyes. "And all of this is just speculation…if he…he…" She choked.

"Alex," Ross said softly. "He'll be ok…He's tough and strong…"

"You didn't see him…He was…He lost so much blood…Olivia Benson and I were soaked in it…And now…He's so quiet and still…"

Ross sat next to her on the couch.

"Great." Alex furiously wiped her eyes. "I'm crying at the drop of a hat. And it's almost time for me to get back to him."

"I think you're doing just fine," Ross said. "Alex, I'm sorry, but I have to get back to the scene." He sighed. "This case is going to give a lot of us a lot of nightmares. I'll be back when I can…I promise…Call me…Let me know how Goren is…"

Alex walked to the ICU after Ross left. She saw Olivia leaning forward in the chair next to Bobby's bed. One of her hands gripped Bobby's left; the other spread protectively over Bobby. Alex recognized the posture. When she woke several times in the hospital after her attack, she discovered Bobby in the same protective stance.

"Hey," Alex said softly as she touched Olivia on the shoulder.

Olivia started, blinked and stretched carefully. "Hey," she answered. "I'm sorry. I fell asleep at my post."

"I wouldn't deny any of us any sleep right now," Alex answered.

"The doctors have been in and out," Olivia said. "They make encouraging noises. And I think there's a nurse in every fifteen minutes."

"And what kind of noises do the nurses make?" Alex asked. "They're the ones who know what really is going on."

Olivia half smiled. "Good ones. They like him. But, you know, nurses tend to like cops, especially cute, heroic cops."

Alex smiled. "I think if we're quiet and well behaved, they might let us both stay here for a while."

Olivia yawned and stretched. "Cragen back at the scene?"

Alex nodded. "Ross…Bobby and my Captain…Showed up a while ago. I'm glad we're away from the scene. I know I'm glad Bobby doesn't have to deal with it, although this certainly isn't the way I wanted that to happen."

"I've never seen him so still," Olivia said. She tenderly brushed Bobby's curls. She looked shyly at Alex. "The one place where he feels warm…alive…is his face."

"Yea…He's so still…"

"Here," Olivia said after a moment. "You sit for a while." She stepped to the door. "Thank you, Alex…for letting me be here…be with him…"

"You have the right," Alex answered.

"A lot of people might not think so…I mean…Bobby and I…We haven't even kissed. There isn't really a word to describe what we are…All I know is that I feel like I need to be with him."

"I'm glad you're here," Alex said. "It's not just Bobby and me in this."

Bobby lay still and quiet for another day. Alex and Olivia refused to contemplate going home, and other cops arranged deliveries of food and clothing to them. Members of the SVU and Major Case squad visited during rare breaks from the case. In the hospital's cocoon, the storm of the case left Alex and Olivia relatively untouched, although it was impossible to completely ignore the case. The Flynn family, surrounded by cameras, attempted to visit Bobby, but the ICU unit turned them away. Michael Flynn managed to whisper a few words of thanks to Olivia and request that she let him know how Bobby was. The Chief of Detectives, accompanied by his own entourage of reporters, also made a foray, and was also thwarted by the ICU staff. Alex and Olivia hastily retreated from the waiting room when the Chief arrived, and the reporters unhappily settled for footage of the Chief speaking in front of the hospital.

One visitor was much more welcome. As Alex held vigil at Bobby's side in the afternoon, Olivia curled on a waiting room couch and tried to will Bobby to get better. A slender man with silver hair entered the room, and Olivia sat up. The hospital staff and the many cops prevented any unauthorized person from getting near to Bobby, and the man certainly didn't look like a reporter, but Olivia was on full alert. The man's face was vaguely familiar, and Olivia tried to place it as she stood.

"Jimmy Deakins," the man said quietly. "I'm looking for Alex Eames."

Olivia recognized the name of Major Case's former captain, who had resigned under a shadow Alex insisted wasn't deserved. Olivia knew that Don Cragen was furious about the department's treatment of Deakins—another in the long list of the things Cragen held the department responsible for. Aside from seeing Deakins at various department functions, Olivia had little contact with him, but Cragen and Alex's high opinion of him carried a great deal of weight with Olivia.

"Alex is with Bobby," Olivia said. "I'm Detective Olivia Benson from SVU…I think I can sneak you back to see Bobby...It looks a little scary." She guided Deakins past the nurse's station. "He's very pale, and there're a lot of machines."

In spite of the warning, Bobby's condition shocked Deakins. He stood for a moment looking into the room. Alex sat next to Bobby, one of her hands resting on his as she read the morning's paper to him. She glanced up, saw her former captain, and smiled warmly. She stood and walked to the door.

"Captain," she said. "Oh…sorry…"

"It's all right, Alex," Deakins said gently. "Half the people I know still call me that." He nodded at Bobby. "How is he?"

"The doctors say he's getting better…Better than that, the nurses say he's doing well," Alex answered. "But…he's so quiet…"

"Alex," Olivia suggested. "Why don't you go to the waiting room? I don't mind taking my turn early."

As he turned to go, Deakins watched Olivia take her place next to Bobby. She picked up the newspaper, taking up where Alex stopped. One of her hands reached for Bobby's and held it as she read. "Good," Deakins thought. "She'd be good for him…but I hope she knows what she's getting into."

"It's good to see you again," Alex said when they reached the waiting room.

"I wish the circumstances were better," Deakins said. "I think I last saw you at the funeral."

Alex nodded. "It's…it's been hectic…"

"That's an understatement," Deakins said dryly. "How is he?"

"Like I said…He's a lot better…He looked a lot worse…" Alex bit her lip. Aside from Ross, she hadn't confessed to anyone about how frightened she was by Bobby's injuries. "He…he crashed on the operating table…He lost so much blood…In the ambulance…I…I thought…" She shivered.

Wordlessly, Deakins stepped forward and put his hands on her shoulders. "I'm not here as your captain, Alex. I'm here as a friend. You don't have to put on any act."

Alex shook and struggled. "Oh, Damn!" She began to cry. Deakins guided her to one of the couches, sat her there, and grabbed a fistful of tissues from one of the many boxes. "Here," he gently said and handed them to her. He sat next to her and rubbed her back as she cried for several minutes. Her tears ended, and she wiped her eyes and blew her nose.

"Sorry," she said with a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

"It's all right," Deakins said calmly. "When I called Ross for details about Bobby, he said you might need a shoulder."

"I…I don't…" Alex began. She stared at the soggy tissues. "Or maybe I do," she said in resignation. "Thank you."

"He'll be all right, Alex," Deakins said. "He's too stubborn…And someone has to challenge Danny Ross for the title of smartest guy on the force."

Alex smiled wanly. "That's been an interesting competition to be in the middle of."

"How's Bobby handled this case?" Deakins asked cautiously.

"He's been brilliant…Top of his game," Alex answered. "You know how stunning that can be."

Deakins nodded.

"But…It started the day he came back from leave…That's bad enough…But the Brady case…" Alex pushed the tissues into a ball in her hands. "Brady picked him…"

A shiver ran up Deakins' spine. From what he knew, no one would want to be picked for anything by Mark Ford Brady.

"Bobby's Mom," Alex said deliberately. "She may have been one of Brady's victims."

"Oh, God," Deakins said in a rush of air.

"Bobby went to see Brady the day before the execution. He wouldn't let me go with him…"

Deakins' mind reeled. The thought of a distressed Bobby Goren facing a vicious psychopath like Brady without the support of Alex Eames was not a pleasant one.

"He told me he had to go alone…That I had to trust him…I had to do that…I had to give him that trust." Alex pleaded for understanding. "I'm not sure what happened in that last interview…Bobby hasn't told me anything. He went directly from the prison to the hospital. His Mom died the next day. Brady sent that…that "confession" as some sort of gift to Bobby."

"Did it say anything about Bobby's mother?" Deakins asked, unsure if he wanted to know the answer.

Alex shook her head. "Not a thing…the passages around that time show signs of heavy editing…The only parts that seem to be…Bobby…when I told him about it…I told him there was no mention of his mom." Alex stared at the floor. "Bobby never looked at any of it. Nothing…He's getting all this praise for breaking Brady and all those cases…And he feels like a fake…He doesn't say anything, but I can see it."

"And this case," Deakins said thoughtfully. "All the publicity…The praise…It's not going to help him…I remember that he hid in a side room after he received his Medal of Honor. I found him there sitting by himself. He was just turning it over and over in his hands."

"Yea," Alex sighed. "The only good thing…At least I think it's a good thing…is…"

"Olivia Benson?" Deakins asked gently.

"They…they might be very good for each other," Alex said. "And they might be terrible…"

"Well, I hope it's a good thing," Deakins said firmly. "He deserves something good in his life."

The vigils for Bobby continued through the next day. Cops from Major Case and SVU drifted in and out, many of them welcoming the chance to support Bobby and take a break from the case. ("It's pretty awful," one of the Major Case detectives told Alex. "Those poor kids…and we're getting calls from everywhere from families with missing boys.") Cragen and Ross made regular appearances. Doctors and nurses roamed in and out of Bobby's room, all of them making cheerful and optimistic sounds. Alex and Olivia gained some sense of the hysteria surrounding the case from the other detectives and occasional views of the television. At one point they saw a press conference where the Chief of Detectives threw a few pieces of news to the ravenous reporters. The Chief praised the SVU and Major Case for their cooperation and singled out Detective Robert Goren for his brilliant work and heroism.

"That's not going to make Bobby happy," Alex said to Olivia.

"Yea," Olivia agreed. "But I just want him to wake up."

He was thirsty—terribly thirsty. His head hurt, his chest was on fire, his arms stung—everything in his body hurt. Light pressed against his closed eyes. He didn't want to open them; he knew it would hurt more if he let in the light. And he was cold, bone chilling cold. He wanted to pull the covers over him, but he couldn't move his arms. With a rising panic, he realized something was in his mouth and throat and that it was breathing for him. He feebly struggled against his restraints, and, in spite of the painful light, opened his eyes.

"Bobby…It's all right." Olivia's soft, calm voice soothed him. "You're in the hospital…A machine is helping you breathe…If you can…Relax…"

He stopped struggling. He felt her warm, gentle hand on his. He looked up into her eyes and took refuge in them.

"I've buzzed the nurses." She brushed the curls from his forehead. "Alex is going to be furious…She's in the waiting room getting some rest…Michael Flynn is ok…He was scared, and they drugged him, but he wasn't badly hurt." She told him everything he needed to hear. He tried to show her his gratitude by squeezing her hand.

Led by Dr. Wang, a squadron of nurses and doctors rushed in. They started to push Olivia aside, but Bobby clung to her hand. "Just for a little while," Olivia said. "I'll be right back after they help you…And I'll be right outside the door…I promise." He reluctantly released her hand.

"Ok, Mr. Goren," one of the doctors said. "Let's see if you can breathe without this."

Bobby had never swallowed a sword, but as the doctors and nurses pulled the tube from his throat he thought might have some idea of what it was like to have one pulled out. He coughed and nearly passed out from the fierce, slashing pain.

"Take it easy," someone said. "Breathe as deeply as you can."

It hurt terribly, but every breath was easier and caused less pain. Someone brought a cop to him and bent a straw so that he could take a drink. The water was wonderfully cool and soothing on his parched throat.

The words of the doctors and nurses, like their faces, blurred in and out of focus. He heard something about "pain medication…Don't move too quickly…Stitches…Take it easy…" His attention was on Olivia. He could see her standing just outside the door, her eyes centered on him as if she willed him to stay conscious. The doctors and nurses finished their work and wheeled away several machines. One of the nurses remained to carefully adjust his IV poll and tubes.

"It's good to see you awake, Mr. Goren," she said. "You've got a lot of people who care about you. Don't be afraid to use your pain medication. And call us if you need anything." She smiled at him warmly and nodded at Olivia, who had stepped back into the room. "He'll probably go back to sleep now…But this is a very good sign."

Olivia sat next to Bobby. "It's good to see you awake," she said softly. She hoped her voice didn't betray her worry and relief. "Can I get you anything?"

"Eames…Is she ok?" Bobby's voice was very soft and weak.

"Yes…And she'll be even better when she knows you're better." Olivia gripped Bobby's hand, which finally felt warm.

"I…I'm a little cold…Could you…"

"Of course." Carefully avoiding the tubes and wires, she pulled the sheet and blanket over him. She rested her hand against her cheek.

"Are…are you ok?" Bobby asked. He struggled to stay awake.

"I am now," Olivia smiled. "It's ok…You can go to sleep. Someone will be here. Probably either Alex or me. You haven't been and won't be alone."

"Now," Bobby thought. "Tell her now…Don't make her waste any more of her time on you…Tell her what you really are…What you may be…Tell her the truth…" But he was so tired and weak. Exhaustion shadowed the edge of his mind.

Olivia carefully tucked the sheet and blanket around Bobby. "There," she said tenderly. "That should be warmer." She laid her hand against his cheek, and its warmth spread throughout his body as he fell asleep.

END Chapter 12


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Olivia watched Bobby sleep. "The short time I've known him," she thought. "He's either been asleep, or in danger of losing his life." She smiled wryly. "Well, at least half of it."

Bobby stirred, twisting as much as he could against the tubes and wires that still invaded and held his body. Olivia leaned forward and gently laid a hand on his shoulder.

"It's ok," she whispered. "It's all right. Alex and I are here…You're safe…I promise."

His eyelashes fluttered, and he calmed. Olivia was enormously relieved. In the twenty four hours since he'd briefly wakened, Bobby drifted in and out of consciousness. Alex, who was bitterly disappointed not to be present when he first opened his eyes after surgery, spoke quickly with him. His conversations with Alex and Olivia were short and uneasy. He appeared to desperately want to tell them something, but the presence of doctors and nurses and his exhaustion prevented it. He remained awake for only a few minutes, something which worried Alex and Olivia, but not the doctors and nurses. "Perfectly all right," Dr. Wang told them. "He lost a lot of blood. He was already exhausted when he was injured. And he was dealing with a pretty horrible situation. Any one of those could've put his body in a state where it needs a lot of rest. Sleep is one of the best—if not the best—ways for his body to heal right now." The doctors were concerned—very concerned—about the kind of sleep Bobby got. Nightmares plagued it, and Bobby frequently fought the demons in his mind so violently that the doctors and nurses feared he might pull out his sutures. They had no desire to sedate or restrain Bobby any more than they already had and were greatly relieved when Olivia and Alex could calm him with a few words or touches. "There's something going on inside his head," one nurse said to Olivia. "And I think it's more than what just happened…although that would be more than enough to give anyone nightmares."

The case was providing a lot of nightmares for a lot of people. Stabler reported to Alex and Olivia that even the toughest and most jaded members of the M.E. office were shaken by the number of bodies and the torture they endured. There were twenty three bodies divided between the two scenes. Bertelli's obsessive attention to detail meant that the police at least knew the names of all of the boys and, in many cases, their baseball team, their favorite foods, their families' troubles, and what Bertelli considered their sins. It was a matter of matching a name to a body, but each name also led to a ripple of tragedies. Including Tony Genoa's family, there were seventeen divorces and separations connected to the boys. Including Tony's brother Paulie, there were five suicides. There were breakdowns, alcoholism, and drug addiction. Most of the families—or what was left of the families—were quickly found, but two or three of the bodies appeared to have no one to claim them.

Bobby stirred fitfully again and murmured indistinctly. Olivia tenderly touched his shoulder. "It's ok, Bobby," she whispered. "You're safe." His condition had improved enough that he was now in a room with more privacy, less light, and less noise. The unit allowed visitors, and Alex and Olivia were able to sit together during their watch. Several visitors from Major Case and SVU were always available to take a tour next to Bobby. One weary and sad eyed Major Case detective confessed to Olivia that the hospital visits provided a brief and welcome break from the case.

The police had all the names of the victims, but calls from frantic families continued to flood the NYPD. Many involved missing people who bore little or no resemblance to the murdered boys. The press vilified several law agencies—especially the Westchester County police—but the NYPD was left relatively unscathed. The press as a chorus praised Detective Robert Goren for solving the case, saving Michael Flynn, and facing down John Bertelli. Bobby was a hero, even if he was in no position to enjoy the distinction. But Bertelli and Veneer were the chief villains, and eager to blame the other. "If we're lucky," a weary Elliott told Alex and Olivia during a brief visit to the hospital. "We won't have a trial. I don't want to testify in this case. I don't want either of you to testify in this case. I don't want Goren to testify."

"No…No…" Bobby murmured. He twisted in the bed. "Don't hurt her…Stop…Please…"

"Bobby." Olivia reached to calm him. As well as his recovery was going, Bobby was still held together by sutures and faith, and the results of any of those sutures being opened would be very bad.

"No…no…I'm not like you…No…"

Olivia's hand hovered over the call button. She didn't want to call for help to restrain Bobby. She placed her hand on his bandaged chest, trying not to press too hard. "Bobby…Bobby…Please…You'll hurt yourself…Please…"

His eyes flicked open, and Bobby jerked on the bed. He stared wildly at Olivia. She couldn't remember seeing so much terror in anyone's eyes.

"Bobby." In spite of her efforts, some of her fear seeped into her voice. "It's all right…You're in the hospital…You're safe…"

Bobby blinked, and his defenses rose. A guarded look Olivia had come to recognize replaced the terror in his eyes.

"Sorry," he said in a weak, hoarse voice. "I…Bad dream…"

Olivia sensed that the construction and maintenance of his defenses cost Bobby a great deal. "It's ok. If anyone has right to bad dreams, it's you."

"I…I…" For a moment, he looked at her with a desperate yearning. He stared at his hands. "How's Michael Flynn?"

"He's good," Olivia answered. "He asked me to thank you. In spite of his father, he's a pretty good kid."

"How…how long have I been out?"

"A couple of days…Take it easy…There's a lot of thread holding you together."

"I…I don't remember much." Bobby frowned. "I…I've been in and out?"

"Yea…but the doctors say that's normal…Although…" Olivia hesitated for a moment to remember that Bobby and Alex shared her black sense of humor. "I'm not sure what's normal about being sliced like a Thanksgiving turkey."

Bobby smiled wanly. "Certainly not an everyday experience for me," he said dryly.

"Good thing, too," Olivia said, relieved she'd measured his humor correctly. "I don't think your friends could stand it, let alone you."

"Tell her," Bobby's mind urged him. "She'll understand…but maybe she won't…Maybe she'll think that you only want her because you think she'll understand…"Hey, since we both may be the kids of psycho rapists, maybe can get together?" What if…Is that why?" He stared at his hands.

"Bobby…what is it?"

"Hey, look," he said with forced cheerfulness. "At least my hands are pretty much healed…"

He didn't fool her for a minute. "Bobby…You can talk to me…"

He looked up at her. "Maybe…maybe she and Alex…" he thought. "If anyone could…"

"Hey." Alex appeared in the doorway. "You're awake."

Bobby blinked. "Now," he thought. "Tell them now…"

Dr. Wang and a small flock of nurses appeared behind Alex. "Mr. Goren…Good…You're with us." Wang smiled approvingly. "Let's take a look at those sutures. Then we can get you cleaned up and some food inside you."

Bobby mutely watched the nurses shoo Alex and Olivia out of the room. Dr. Wang carefully changed his bandages and examined Bobby's wounds; he was pleased with what he saw. "You still need to be careful," Wang said. "But I think we can start letting you get out of bed for short periods. But nothing too extreme. You had some nasty, deep cuts, and your body is still getting over loosing so much blood." Wang smiled at Bobby. "I'll leave you to the nurses. They've been fighting over who gets to give you a sponge bath."

Bobby's face flushed crimson.

"Well," one of the nurses said. "At least we know you've got enough blood in you to blush."

"Don't worry, Mr. Goren," another nurse said. "We give very quick, very efficient, and very modest sponge baths."

They were true to her words. Several minutes later, Bobby felt considerably cleaner—the nurses even managed to wash his hair and give him a shave—and his virtue was intact.

"Thank you," he said shyly to a nurse who remained to collect sponges and bottles. "I…I feel much better…"

"Quite all right," the young woman said cheerfully. "It's part of what we do…Besides, we want you to have the treatment worthy of a hero. Now that you're feeling better, you'll be able to welcome all those people who want to visit you."

Bobby frowned. "Visitors?"

The nurse nodded. "The Chief of Detectives, isn't it, who's your Boss? He's tried several times to see you. I understand the father of the boy you saved is some kind of celebrity. The Chief of Police has called. And there've been rumors the Mayor might come…"

"I…I…" Bobby stared at his hands. "I was just doing my job…"

The nurse carefully adjusted the covers around Bobby. She'd rarely seen a patient's mood darken so quickly. "Are you ok? Can I get you something?"

"I…I'm fine," Bobby answered. "Just…tired." In truth, he could rarely remember feeling so exhausted, and pain lingered in every corner of his body.

The nurse decided not to press. "That's understandable. You're going to be a little weak for a while. Let's try to get something inside you. What's your favorite flavor of ice cream?"

Bobby fiddled with the sheet. "Anything is ok. I…I'm not hungry."

"Can we come in?" Alex appeared at the door; Olivia was behind her.

"Of course," the nurse said.

Bobby ate very little, in spite of encouragement from the nurses and Alex and Olivia. He added bricks to the walls around him before their eyes. Cragen arrived just as Bobby's chocolate ice cream melted into cold soup.

"Good to see you awake, Goren," he said warmly. "Ross asked me to send his regards."

Bobby slowly turned his spoon in the chocolate goop. "Uh…thank you, sir."

"The Chief of Detectives also sends his regards." Cragen glanced at Olivia and Alex, sensing that they were as puzzled and troubled by Bobby's dark mood as he was. "But you should get those from him personally soon."

Bobby's head shot up; Cragen couldn't see his face, but Alex and Olivia saw the fear and guilt in Bobby's eyes before he returned his attention to his bowl.

"The Chief is coming?" Bobby asked, struggling to control his voice.

"Yes," Cragen said. "He hopes to come this afternoon. Of course, I could let him know you're in no shape to see him…"

Bobby considered grabbing the life preserver Cragen threw him. "No," he said softly and flatly. "Might as well get it over with…"

"It sounds," Cragen said. "That you like meeting with the Chief of Detectives as much as I do."

Bobby smiled weakly. "Fortunately, I don't have to deal with him as often."

The Chief of Detectives' potential visit shadowed the day. Bobby's defenses were up and in full power, and Alex and Olivia couldn't find any means of attacking them. After tempting him with offers of coffee from outside the hospital, trying to engage him in a debate over baseball (marked by the discovery that Alex was a Yankees fan and Olivia a Mets follower), and attempting to get him in a discussion of his possible release from the hospital, Alex and Olivia were finally able to generate some interest from Bobby when they suggested a reading of the days' newspapers. "We'll just hide any headlines or stories about the case," Alex told Olivia as they headed to the gift shop to buy the papers.

Bobby knew what they were doing, of course. He noticed that they hid the front pages from him and skipped over certain sections when they read the papers. He suspected Olivia might have fooled him, but he knew Alex too long and too well. "So," he thought. "It's bad…I screwed up somehow…Everyone keeps telling me I'm some kind of hero…but I know that's not true…"

"Bobby," Alex said gently. "Did you hear any of what I just read to you?"

"Uh…sorry…" Bobby blinked. "I…I may be a little tired…"

Alex and Olivia shared a quick look, one that Bobby noted with a stab of guilt.

"It's ok," Olivia said. "You haven't been this awake for this long for a while. We'll let you get some rest before the invasion." She stood, dropping several newspaper sections in her chair, and tenderly touched Bobby on the shoulder.

Alex, dropping an equal amount of newsprint on her chair, followed Olivia. "Don't worry, Bobby…We'll be back…You won't have to face the Chief and his entourage alone."

Bobby fell back on his pillows with a deep sigh as Alex and Olivia walked away. He winced as his body protested the move. "It's so hard," he thought. "I feel like I'm telling them lies…I have to tell them…I have to…" He stared at the newspapers; they called to him. Moving cautiously and slowly, he reached for them.

Olivia gratefully accepted the coffee Alex offered. "You know him better than I do, Alex…Is he hiding something?"

Alex stirred sugar into her cup. "He's always on guard, but it's been worse since Brady…and this case." She shook her head. "He hates attention…I don't believe he's gotten much good attention in his life, and he doesn't know how to handle it."

Olivia nodded. "Do you think he's in pain?"

Alex sighed. "If Bobby shows pain, he's in a LOT of pain…I can tell you he's not comfortable right now."

"The Chief's visit will be hell for him." It was a statement, not a question.

"I don't know anyone who enjoys being visited by the Chief," Alex said.

"Well, let's see if we can help him get ready," Olivia said.

They walked back to Bobby's room. Alex opened the door and stopped so suddenly Olivia nearly slammed into her. They stared at Bobby's bed. Aside from the crumpled newspapers and a few red spots on the sheets, it was empty.

END CHAPTER 13


	14. Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

Captain Danny Ross leaned heavily against the elevator's back wall. He rubbed the back of his neck, and smiled wanly as he recalled that it was a favorite move of Bobby Goren. "Odd," Ross thought. "Not only am I happy to visit Goren, I'm happy to visit him in the hospital…at least it gives me a break from the case…and the press and the Brass…I'll have to warn Goren about the Chief of Detectives' visit…"

The elevator door opened, and Ross faced a wild storm. Doctors and nurses rushed about; men and women in hospital security uniforms swarmed around the hall and spoke frantically to cell phones and radios. For a brief, confused moment Ross wondered if the Chief had already arrived. He saw a worried and tense Alex Eames standing in front of the nurses' station.

"Eames…What's going on? Is Goren all right?"

"He's gone," Alex said flatly.

"Gone?" Ross stared at her. She couldn't mean that Goren was dead. All of the reports were good; all said that Goren was steadily getting better. Ross had visited him briefly, and while the detective was unconscious and looked terribly pale, there was nothing to suggest that the big, strong man wouldn't recover. "Gone?" Ross repeated.

"From his room," Alex said numbly. "Olivia…Olivia Benson and I left him for just a few minutes to get some coffee…He said he was tired…We were only gone a few minutes…When we got back to his room…He was gone."

Ross gently guided Alex to a relatively quiet corner. "Goren's missing."

Alex nodded her head. "It…it looks like he hasn't been gone long. He pulled out his IVs…They'd taken him off the monitors…He took off…He must still be in the hospital…He's pretty noticeable…Big guy in a hospital gown…Bleeding…" Alex bit her lip.

"Bleeding? And why did he…"

Olivia appeared at Ross' side in time to hear his questions. "We're not sure," she responded in a strained voice. "But we…Alex and I…were reading some papers to him…We didn't read anything about the case…But when we left…" She winced.

"We left the newspapers," Alex said in a choked voice.

"Goren read the stories on the case," Ross said thoughtfully. "And he doesn't think he deserves credit for what he did…May even think he screwed up…And he was already carrying a load of guilt over the Brady cases…"

"You're right," Olivia said to Alex. "He gives Bobby a run for the money in the brains department."

"Yea," Alex sighed, glancing at Ross. "It's an interesting race sometimes."

Ross smiled weakly. "Do we have any idea where he might be?"

Alex shook her head. "The only good thing is they didn't find a lot of blood…But if he opens up any of those sutures…"

"Well, the Chief of Detectives will have to postpone his visit again," Ross said. "Maybe he'll give up trying. Don't worry, Eames…We'll find him…I'll talk with the hospital security."

"Alex," Olivia said urgently as Ross walked away. "You know Bobby as well as anyone can. What do you think he did? Where's he gone?"

Alex closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall. "Ok," she said. "I don't think he's really thinking…He…he just wants to get away…Away from all this praise he doesn't think he deserves…From this guilt trip he's laying on himself…" She looked at Olivia. "He rarely runs away…and he always comes back…"

"He hasn't gone far," Olivia reasoned. It felt good to think, to have something to solve.

Alex blinked. "He'll go to some place safe…" She thought for a moment, and walked up to one of the frantic nurses. "Do you have anything like a library here?"

The hospital bore two rooms fitting that description. One, locked and with restricted access, held reference books and professional materials for the staff; the other provided a few books, magazines, and other materials for the patients and their families. "Mr. Goren asked the same question this morning," a nurse said eagerly. "He hoped he could find some things to read."

This library was a small, warm, friendly room. The young woman at the desk stared in shock at the army of doctors, nurses, and police officers who invaded her domain. She hadn't seen Bobby, but readily admitted that she'd left her post briefly to use the bathroom and to get coffee; someone could've entered the room at either time. Not wishing to disturb Bobby more than he already was, Olivia and Alex began a quiet canvass of the room.

The joining of several walls created the library, and these, combined with the placement of several bookshelves, created several nooks and crannies. Olivia found him in one of those cubbyholes. He was curled up in a ball, desperately and unsuccessfully trying to make his body disappear. He wore only the ridiculously undersized hospital gown, and Olivia saw the vast white bandages on his body. To her relief, she didn't see any red marks on those bandages, but Bobby shivered in the cool air conditioning. She fought against the tears in her eyes. "I don't know what to do," she thought. "I don't know how to help him." She cautiously stepped closer to Bobby; he responded by trying to curl into a tighter ball, burying his head between his knees and wrapping his arms around it. "Oh, God," Olivia thought. "What have I gotten myself into?" She studied Bobby. He looked less like a strong, bright, experienced detective and more like a frightened boy, more like one of Bertelli's victims than their avenger. "Alex," Olivia called, keeping one eye on Bobby. "I found him."

Alex was at Olivia's side in seconds. "Oh…"

Bobby jerked at the sound of Alex's voice. Alex looked at Olivia, and the SVU detective understood she should follow Alex's lead. Olivia stepped behind Alex as the smaller woman stepped closer to Bobby.

"Bobby." Alex's voice was calm and soft; it betrayed none of her considerable fear. "Are you ok?"

Bobby whimpered softly.

"You look cold," Alex continued evenly. "Are your sutures ok?" She moved closer to him.

He trembled. "I…I'm sorry." Alex and Olivia could barely hear him.

Alex slowly knelt beside him. "What happened? Why did you take off like that?"

"You don't know," Bobby said, his voice muffled and face hidden. "Neither of you…You don't know what I am…"

Olivia followed Alex's example and knelt at Bobby's feet. "Bobby," she said. "We both know you're a good, gentle man."

"No…no…" He shook his head and finally raised his eyes. He looked away quickly and stared at the floor. "You were right, Eames. You'd think that by now I would've learned that you're always right."

"Bobby," a confused Alex said. "This can wait…Let's get you back to your room…"

"No…no…This can't wait. If we go back to the room, I'll be too tired or someone will come in or I'll be too afraid…I have to tell you now." His desperate eyes sought Olivia. "Does…does she know…about…your…parents…" He hated the pain he caused in her eyes.

Alex and Olivia looked at each other. "You must trust him," Alex said. "If you told him that."

Olivia smiled sadly. "Yea, I do."

"Olivia," Bobby pleaded. "Please…believe me…I…I was…I liked you…Cared…Before I knew…Please believe that."

Olivia was terribly confused. "What…what's this all about?"

Bobby took a deep, ragged breath. "Brady…he…he…my Mom…She was one of his victims."

Alex winced; Olivia reached out to him, but Bobby pulled away.

"It…it's worse…Before he…he hurt her…My Mom…She had an affair with Brady…."

A terrible, heavy stone filled Alex, and she thought it might sink her into the floor. Olivia fought a terrible choking in her throat.

"Brady…Brady thought…thought I was his biological son…"

"No!" Alex seized Bobby's shoulders. "You are nothing like him! You are a good, brave man…"

"Eames…please…please…" With great effort Bobby jerked away from her. "My Mom…just before she died…She told me…She didn't know…She was never sure…Who my father was…" He leaned forward and again wrapped his arms around his head. "She…she didn't know…The reason Brady sent…that…"confession"…" Bobby spat out the last word. "He sent it to his…I'm no hero…I'm a fraud…I…I don't know who I am…Oh, God…"

He wanted to cry, to scream, to run away, but there was nothing left inside. He sat with his head between his knees, his arms wrapped around his head. He knew they would leave him now. They would leave him with his fears and his lies and his thoughts. He would be alone.

He felt a gentle touch on his shoulder. He turned his head and saw Alex at his side.

"I knew I should've gone with you."

"We know who you are," Olivia said from his other side. "Alex said it. You're a good, kind, intelligent man. Every thing that you've done in the short time I've known you says that."

His head swam. They weren't running away. They were both still with him. "I…I'm sorry…You're both so good…I…I don't deserve…" He shivered.

"C'mon," Alex said. "Let's get you back to your room."

He didn't fight as the doctors and nurses eased him into a wheelchair and rolled him back to his room. He meekly slipped into his bed. A quietly furious Dr. Wang carefully checked him.

"You're very lucky, Mr. Goren," the young surgeon said. "You could've ripped out your sutures. Several doctors and I worked very hard to get you back together."

Bobby stared past Wang to where Alex and Olivia stood. "I'm sorry," he said, his words directed at more than just the doctor. "I wasn't thinking…or thinking too much."

Wang adjusted Bobby's IV. "You may have picked up an infection," the doctor said severely. "You've got a slight temperature. Your body is still very weak. I hope we don't have to restrain you."

Bobby blanched. "I…I won't do anything like that again. I promise."

Wang didn't attempt to hide his skepticism.

"You can trust him, Doctor," Alex said quietly. "He keeps his promises."

"And we'll keep an eye on him," Olivia added. Like Alex, she sensed that any restraints would devastate Bobby.

Bobby looked at the two women with enormous gratitude.

"All right," Wang conceded. "But, please, Mr. Goren…Be careful…We like you…but we want to help you to get out of here as quickly as possible."

Wang's departure left an uneasy silence in the room.

"So," Alex finally said. "I guess you won't have to talk to the Chief of Detectives for a while."

"What some people won't do to avoid the Brass," Olivia added.

Bobby shifted uncomfortably on the bed. His excursion left him exhausted and dazed. He still tried to comprehend why Alex and Olivia were still by his side, and pain was clawing at the edge of his mind. "You…you did hear what I said?" he asked wearily.

"Yes," Alex said. She looked at Olivia, then at Bobby. "I could use some coffee. If you could keep an eye on him for a while, Olivia…"

"Of course." Olivia gave Alex a grateful look as she left. "Bobby," she said cautiously. "You thought…I'm sorry to be so blunt, but it's the only way I know how to do this…" For a moment she looked as lost and desperate as she felt. "You thought…that…What did you think?" She sat in the chair closest to Bobby's bed.

Her honesty helped Bobby to be equally true. "I was afraid," he said in a low, strained voice. "That you'd think…that…I was using you…that…because of…your father…that you would…" His resolved faltered.

"Maybe we could help each other…Maybe it's why we're drawn to each other," Olivia said softly.

"But," Bobby said. "That's not why…when I first met you…Before I knew about…I…I liked you…I cared about you…I hoped…As much as I could…I do…God!" he said forcefully. "I hate not being able to pace…" He shook with frustration, anger and exhaustion.

Olivia carefully and tenderly pulled the blankets over Bobby. She laid her hand against his cheek. Her hand was warm against his skin, and her touch soothed him. He turned to her, and she hesitantly wrapped her arms around him. He trembled again and fell into her arms. "I…I'm sorry…sorry…"

"I believe you," Olivia said. She held him, cautiously avoiding the IV tubes. Beneath the hospital gown she felt the rough stitches on his skin. "And I think I understand why it's important to you for me to believe." She pressed her head to his. "Alex knew we needed some time together."

"Yea," Bobby answered in a shaky voice. "She's a great partner…and friend."

END CHAPTER 14


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

Dr. George Huang walked wearily into the hospital. He welcomed the escape from assisting with the interviews of John Bertelli and Gregory Veneer. The latter was one of the most self serving weasels Huang had encountered in his career. "And that," the psychiatrist thought. "Is an insult to weasels everywhere." Veneer was pleasant, however, in comparison to Bertelli's ranting and raving. The disgraced cop maintained he acted because the boys were evil creatures. Bertelli bore a particular hatred for Bobby Goren, accusing the detective of depraved thoughts and actions. Huang wondered if Bertelli would be judged sane enough to face a trial.

"Well," Huang thought as he walked through the hospital. "Goren certainly knew how to play Bertelli…Even Elliott Stabler's convinced Goren saved Michael Flynn's life and solved the case…" Huang sighed as he neared Bobby's room. "The only person who doesn't appear to think Bobby Goren is a hero is Bobby Goren."

Don Cragen had requested that Huang visit Goren; his request was the result of a request from Danny Ross. Cragen first reported to Huang that Goren had disappeared from his hospital room; a second, relieved, report revealed that Olivia and Alex had found Goren hiding in the hospital's library. As he hesitated in front of the door to Goren's room, Huang considered what he knew and speculated about the detective. From what little the psychiatrist knew about Goren, it made sense he'd seek refuge in a library.

Huang knocked on the door and entered the room. His eyes closed, Bobby Goren lay quietly in the bed. He was very pale—Huang had never seen anyone that pale who wasn't a corpse—and dark circles framed his eyes. Huang sensed that Goren wasn't asleep. Olivia sat at the side of the bed, holding Goren's left hand. "Oh," Huang thought in shock. "She's in love with him…and she's not trying to hide it." His mind reeled with the possibilities of a romance between Olivia Benson and Bobby Goren. Bobby opened his eyes and smiled at Olivia. "He loves her too," Huang thought. "But he's afraid…He doesn't want anyone to know…He's afraid he'll hurt her…"

"Hey, Doc," Alex said dryly. "Glad you could make it…Although you missed all of the excitement."

Huang turned to Alex, who stood smiling at him. "Don't worry," she said. "He's been very good. Of course, Olivia and I have been watching him.

"Welcome to my cell," Bobby said weakly.

"Your captains asked me to check in," Huang said. "They're worried about you."

Bobby shifted uncomfortably on the bed.

"He's ok," Olivia said firmly. "We've talked…He won't be doing anything like that again."

Huang paused uncertainly. He'd expected to encounter opposition from Goren, but not from Alex and Olivia. He received support from an unlikely source.

"It's all right," Bobby said quietly. "I…I should talk to him…You guys deserve a break."

Olivia and Alex shared an uneasy look.

"Hey," Huang said. "I'm not the enemy. I'm not here to hurt him."

"Maybe not deliberately," Alex muttered as she passed by Huang.

Bobby warily watched as Huang sat in the chair recently occupied by Olivia.

"So," the psychiatrist asked calmly. "What set off this rush to the library?"

Bobby fidgeted with the sheets. "I…All of this praise…I didn't…don't…deserve it…and the idea of facing the Chief of Detectives and the press…I…I couldn't deal with it…" He shrugged. "So I ran away to what I thought was a safe place." He smiled wanly. "I should've taken some clothes or a blanket with me."

"You could have said no," Huang said reasonably.

"You don't know the Chief very well, do you?" Bobby responded amiably.

"Only in passing," Huang admitted. "But I know that the hospital staff…your fellow cops…your friends…They'd help you."

Bobby moved uncomfortably on the bed. "I…Truth is…I'm not really sure I understand." He winced.

"Goren, are you ok?" Huang didn't like the raspy edge to Bobby's voice, and, although it seemed it impossible, the detective's color appeared paler.

"My…my chest hurts a little when I breathe," Bobby admitted. "But my stitches seem ok," he added in response to Huang's worried face.

Huang stood and examined Bobby. There no splashes of crimson on his bandages to suggest a broken suture, but the detective's breathing was labored and he felt terribly hot. Huang reached for the nurses' call button.

"I hope Olivia and Alex don't blame me for this," he said. "But something's clearly wrong."

"What some people won't do to keep from talking to me," Huang said roughly an hour later.

Bobby smiled weakly. Tubes bearing oxygen ran in and out of his nose, and additional drugs dripped in his IVs. "Not deliberate, I swear," he said feebly. "I didn't plan to get pneumonia."

"You should've thought about that before you pulled that stunt this morning," Alex said, a little sharper than she intended.

Bobby stared at his hands. "I…I'm sorry…"

"Just take it easy now," Olivia said. "I'd like to see you some place other than the hospital. Try to get some sleep. Alex and I will be here." She settled in the chair next to the bed.

"That chair," Bobby murmured. "They're going to put your name on it." He drifted into an uneasy sleep.

"Olivia," Alex said. "I'm going to get a cup of coffee…Want me to bring you one back?"

Olivia's eyes didn't leave Bobby. "Yea…I'd appreciate it…"

Huang joined Alex in the floor's waiting room. He'd certainly had better coffee than what was available there, but he'd also certainly had worse. "Goren," he said cautiously. "He's told you and Olivia what really caused his outburst this morning…"

"It was more of a retreat than an outbreak," Alex answered. "The only person in any kind of danger was Bobby. You've noticed that he doesn't deal well with praise."

"Yes. But there was more to this than just that…There's something worse, at least in his mind?" Huang asked.

Alex considered how much she should reveal to Huang. She'd been impressed by his work and attitude through the case, but she wondered how much she could tell him. She owed something to Bobby.

"Well," she said tentatively. "You know he's been under a lot of pressure…His mother just died after a long illness…And the Brady case…"

"There's more," Huang said. "But you don't feel that you can tell me."

"You'd make a good detective, Doctor," Alex said wryly. "There is more…but I don't think I have the right to tell you."

"Fair enough," Huang said. "And I expected that kind of loyalty."

"Bobby will talk to you," Alex said. "But he probably won't tell you anything."

Huang took a long drink of coffee. "Olivia…She's…"

"Fallen for Bobby?" Alex smiled. "Yea, she shows every sign of it. And Bobby's fallen for her. I know," she said in response to Huang's concerned look. "It could be the Titanic headed for the iceberg…or it could be great for both of them."

"Olivia," Huang said carefully. "Her life isn't exactly without troubles."

"Which may be why it could work," Alex said.

"They have any idea what they're getting into?"

"Does anybody when they're in love?"

Elliott Stabler hesitated at the waiting room entrance. He saw Alex and Huang in a deep but apparently friendly conversation. "Must mean Goren's ok and Olivia's with him," he thought. Elliott frowned as he walked to Bobby's room. Rumors about what had happened that morning spread quickly through the department, and the fact Huang was called to the hospital helped flame those rumors. Elliott hoped that Olivia wasn't hurt physically or emotionally and that the incident might open her eyes to the dangers of any involvement with Goren. He had nothing against Goren, at least not after meeting the man and seeing the detective in action. Goren was clearly great at his job, a rare and terrific combination of a brilliant mind and an enormous capacity for work. He was equally brilliant at the crime scene and in the interrogation room, but Elliott also saw that his reputation for unusual—many said weird—behavior was deserved. While Elliott wasn't sure of the details of Goren's past, he knew that the man occasionally radiated deep and terrible pain, and Elliott could only see the possibility of that pain passing on to Olivia.

He reached Goren's room, took a deep breath, and softly knocked. He opened the door and briefly surveyed the scene. Olivia sat next to the bed. A book rested on her lap with her right hand hovering over it. Her left hand was tangled with Goren's, and the soft, low light just above the bed bathed her in a gentle glow. Goren, his eyelashes occasionally fluttering, lay in the bed. He looked terribly pale, and Elliott saw the white bandages on his body under the edges of the hospital gown. Goren muttered something, and all of Olivia's attention focused on him. She leaned towards him, rested one of her hands gently on his chest, and whispered to him. Goren calmed immediately.

"He doesn't deserve her," Elliott thought, and instantly regretted the wave of anger and, he had to admit, jealousy, that rose in him.

Olivia, slightly startled, looked up at Elliott. "Hey," she said in a voice just above a whisper.

"Hey," Elliott answered. He sat in the room's other chair. "How is he?"

"He's got a touch of pneumonia," Olivia answered. "But the doctors don't think it's too bad…If he takes care of himself." She smiled wryly. "I guess you heard what happened."

"Yea," Elliot said. "That cause the pneumonia…"

"No," Olivia said quickly. "Although it certainly didn't help. He was already weak…And the smoke he inhaled at the fire may have had a part."

"Yea…but what he did this morning." Elliott tried for a bland tone, but he wasn't quite bland enough.

"What is it, Elliott?" Olivia asked with an edge to her voice.

Elliott shifted nervously. "'Liv," he said uneasily. "You know his reputation…"

"Which reputation?" Olivia asked icily. "The one as the weirdest detective in the NYPD? Or the one who's got the best solve rate in the NYPD?"

"'Liv." Elliott attempted to placate his partner. "I…just…I just don't want you to get hurt…"

"Hurt?" She raised her voice enough that Bobby stirred. Her attention immediately returned to him, and she tenderly touched him on the arm. Satisfied he wasn't waking up, she turned back to Elliott. "Did you consider I might hurt him?"

Elliott looked at her in confusion. "I…I don't understand…"

"Elliott." Her voice was a mix of frustration and exhaustion. "He's had as bad a time as I have…Probably worse…You know me…You know I could hurt someone as much as someone could hurt me."

"Olivia…You're my friend," Elliott answered. "My partner…I want to protect you…" He leaned forward in the chair.

"From what, Elliott?" she asked desperately. "From him?" She nodded at Bobby. "You've worked with him, Elliott. He saved your life…my life…He saved Michael Flynn's life…You know he's not some whack job…Forget that you're way off base with this whole protection thing. You're wrong about him."

She again raised her voice more than she intended, and Bobby again moved on the bed. And, again, she reached to calm him.

"Look," she said, gaining control of her voice. "I know…I'm grateful…That you care…You know what it means to me…but…Bobby and Alex have a partnership that…that…" Olivia smiled and shook her head. "It's the only one I've ever seen that's better than ours…"

"Yea." Elliot sensed that the future of that partnership with Olivia lay in the next few minutes. "I saw that…It's something else…And she's a great cop…"

"We've both heard the rumors about them," Olivia said. "And we both know now that those aren't true."

"Yea…I'll have to let a few people know they're really off base."

The heavy atmosphere in the room lightened slightly.

"Alex…She understands something…" Olivia said. "She's supporting us in…in whatever it is Bobby and I are in…She's worried about us…But she thinks there's a chance for us…and she's willing to support that. I'm just asking for the same from you."

Elliot looked at her. "I think…I think I can do that…but I can't promise you that I won't worry."

Olivia smiled in relief. "Worry is ok…And I expect some annoying from you."

He shared her relief. "I can promise you that too."

Bobby murmured weakly.

"Is he ok?" Elliott asked.

Olivia touched Bobby's forehead. "He's awfully hot," she said tensely.

"I'll get a nurse," Elliott said and rose from his chair.

Bobby shivered and twisted. "No," he murmured. "No…Don't…Please…"

"Bobby," Olivia said, trying not to betray her fear. "It's all right…Take it easy."

"Mom…Mom…I'm sorry…Sorry…I…" He fought through a pain and fever filled fog. "No," he thought. "Mom's dead…She's gone…" He tried to move. "Eames…Is that…please…"

"Alex is just in the waiting room," Olivia said softly. She brushed several damp and errant curls from Bobby's forehead; his skin felt horribly hot. "Please," she thought. "Elliott…Alex…Somebody…Please come…Please help me…"

Bobby heard Olivia's voice through the fog. "Olivia," he thought. "Olivia…She's safe…She'll help me…" He blinked, and Olivia's face came into focus over him. "Olivia," he whispered in a low, weak, raspy voice.

"I'm here," she said. "I'm here…"

"I…I'm sorry…" She had to lean very close to hear him. "I shouldn't…have been so stupid…this morning…"

"I understand why you did that." She gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile. "The Chief of Detectives would bore anyone."

He tried to return the smile, but a terrible cough seized him. Olivia clutched his hand.

"I'm sorry," he gasped. Tears glistened in his eyes. "It…it hurts…"

Elliott appeared, followed by several nurses, and, after them, Alex and Huang. The nurses gently but efficiently swept Olivia from Bobby's side. She stood by a wall and tried to catch a glimpse of Bobby's face as the nurses hovered over him. "Oh, God," she prayed. "Please help him…Please give me the strength to help him."

END CHAPTER 15


	16. Chapter 16

Olivia and Bobby completely wrested any control of this story away from me. Reviews are appreciated.

CHAPTER 16

Olivia stretched and yawned; her body offered several protests to the moves. "Alex and Elliott may be right," she thought. "I should get more sleep in a real bed and not grab minutes on a couch." She sat up and realized that light crept in the room's window. "Morning," she thought. "It's morning." She rose from the couch and walked past the bookcases that shielded Bobby's bed from the rest of his apartment. She looked at Bobby's sleeping form. He stirred slightly, and his long eyelashes fluttered, but he was asleep. Olivia looked at the clock and then at Bobby. He'd slept for at least four uninterrupted hours, and she almost cried with gratitude. There had been several terrifying nights since the pneumonia took Bobby; he was so weak that the infection ravaged his body, and at one point he was again on a ventilator. He drifted in and out of a terrible delirium for several days and nights, occasionally twisting and turning so violently that the doctors feared they might have to restrain him. Fortunately, a gentle touch from Alex or especially Olivia usually managed to calm him. His body finally rallied, and his fever broke so quickly one evening that Alex, who was with him at the time, thought he might get chilled. After several days and some aggravation, the doctors eventually agreed to release Bobby, but only after extracting promises from the patient and his friends that he would take it easy and they would keep watch over him. "He'll be less miserable at home…or at least I hope he will," Dr. Wang told Olivia and Alex. "And maybe sleep better in his own bed."

In spite of the demands of the Bertelli case, there were plenty of volunteers to stay with Bobby. All welcomed the opportunity to offer something to the cop who broke the case and saved Michael Flynn, and several confessed Bobby's apartment was a welcome refuge from the case. Munch dryly commented that Bobby's selection of books was a major reason for his commitment, but when Olivia arrived to take over a shift from the dour detective she found Munch seated next to Bobby's bed. In the two days he'd been home, Bobby was clear in his thoughts and speech, although terribly exhausted and tired. He slept for only short periods, frequently fighting horrible dreams. He was never alone to fight these battles; although they were both back at work on the Bertelli case, Alex or Olivia stayed through the night. In addition to Munch, Elliott or Huang or Fin filled several shifts, and even Captains Don Cragen and Danny Ross appeared to take a watch.

Olivia stretched again. The fact that Bobby managed several hours of good and uninterrupted sleep was the best and biggest of several positive steps. "Gave me a good rest, too," Olivia thought gratefully.

Bobby stirred restlessly, and Olivia gently brushed his curls. He blinked, stared around in confusion for several seconds, and smiled when he saw her.

"Hey." His voice was still weak, but clear.

"Hey," she answered. "Good morning, sleepyhead."

He turned toward the window and blinked again. "Morning?"

"Yea," Olivia said. "You slept for at least four hours straight."

"Wow," Bobby said as he carefully sat up. "Some kind of record. Do I win anything?"

"My undying gratitude and affection," Olivia said.

She helped him to the bathroom. He'd finally stopped protesting her assistance at the end of his first day home. When he returned to his bed, Bobby found a cup of coffee waiting for him.

"Be careful," Olivia warned him. "It's high octane."

Bobby sipped the dark beverage. "Oh…good…now you'll get to see more of my real personality. I really need the caffeine for it to come out."

Olivia sat her own cup on the shelf near his bed. "I'm just glad you like the really strong stuff…Liking weak coffee is a real turn off for me…"

He smiled at her and sat his cup near hers. Impulsively, Olivia brushed her lips across his forehead. Equally impulsively, Bobby reached to touch her hair. Warmth flooded through and around them. Stunned, Bobby pulled away, but Olivia gently held him.

"I'm not hurting you, am I," she asked.

"No…No…but…"

"Bobby…I kissed you…" She smiled at him. "I…I wouldn't mind…if you kissed me back…"

His mind reeled, but before his guilt and fear took control, the part of his brain yelling, "Kiss her, idiot!" gained strength. His hand found the back of Olivia's head and guided her to him. She expected him to kiss her on the lips, but he tenderly brushed his lip over the spot between her eyebrows.

"Lovely…beautiful…good…Olivia…" he murmured.

Olivia trembled. His days in the hospital led Olivia to forget how big and powerful Bobby was. He was still weak, but as he held her she was reminded of his size and potential strength.

"Hey," his voice rumbled in her ear. "You ok?"

"Yea." Her face brushed against his cheek, and she thrilled to the feel of his stubble. "You're just a little overwhelming."

"Really." He turned her face to his and kissed her lips. Olivia pressed her lips against his, and they truly kissed for the first time. If the need for oxygen hadn't become so strong, the kiss might have lasted for hours. When they finally, reluctantly separated, both Olivia and Bobby gasped.

"Wow," a befuddled Olivia said. "Alex is right…You're a great kisser…"

She flushed the minute she said it. Puzzled, Bobby stared at her and then started to laugh. Olivia realized she'd never heard him laugh, certainly not this warm, full, gentle laugh that seemed to start somewhere deep in his belly and radiate outwards. It was a very nice sound, and she hoped she would hear it a lot.

"So," he said ruefully. "Alex told you about our wild, romantic evening?"

"I'm sorry…I wasn't thinking…Like I said…I was overwhelmed. Alex…Alex wanted me to know that there wasn't anything…She was trying to explain what was between you…and…" Olivia shrugged. "I'm not explaining this well."

"I'm not sure there's a way to explain Eames and me," Bobby said quietly. "I'm just glad it is." He shook his head. "That night…one of the sillier nights of my life. It shouldn't have happened at all…" He grew serious. "I respect her…She's a great cop…A great person…I respect them both…It's important that you know that about us…"

"I understand…I think…" Olivia responded. She sat tentatively beside Bobby on the bed. "Alex said nothing happened…and she told me about how you've helped her in the past year…" She hesitated, uncertain of how to address the terrible events that swept Alex and Bobby in the past year.

"That…that was my fault…I…It's never been that I don't think she's attractive…I did…I do…and…and I care for her…" He struggled to clear his thoughts and his words. "This is so weird…Talking about this with you…But it seems right at the same time…Eames and I…It's so complicated…It's not like anything I've ever known…"

"Yea," Olivia agreed. "It's not simple with Elliott and me. But it…it works, most of the time…And it's wonderful, most of the time." She reached to touch his cheek; Bobby reached for her and pulled down in his arms.

"Olivia," he said in wonder after several moments. "I think…in spite of everything…I think…I…I may be happy…"

A great, bittersweet lump rose in her throat; Bobby clearly hadn't experienced much happiness recently, and probably not much in his life. "And I'm the reason he thinks he has it now," Olivia thought and shivered.

"Olivia…Are you all right?"

"Yea…just…" She studied him for a moment, carefully resting her head on her arms on his chest. "Honesty," she thought. "It's the only way…the only thing…I know…" She touched his cheek. "It's…It seems you haven't had a lot of happiness, Bobby."

He stared at a point above her head. "Well…the job…you know…"

"But…" She moved cautiously into dangerous territory. "I…I get the idea with you…and maybe with me…It's more than the job."

He continued to stare at the point above her head. Bobby sensed that his only option, like Olivia, was honesty. And he knew it could destroy them. "I…I…" He hated that he was about to cause her pain. "I know…I have a good idea that you've had a lot of pain and it doesn't have anything to do with the job."

"I don't know," Olivia said, grateful and afraid of the trust Bobby showed her. "The job's been everything to me for so long." She became aware of his thumb caressing the back of her hand. "That sounds so pathetic." She shook her head. "And I don't think my life is pathetic at all."

"You have work that you love," Bobby said, grateful that he could say something true and consoling. "That you do well…That helps people…You've probably heard the saying…What you need for a good life…one with meaning…Is work you love and is of value to others…"

"It seems to me," she said softly. "There's something more to that saying."

He stared at their hands.

"That," she continued. "You need to love…and be loved by…someone." She hugged him as tightly as she dared. "And…and I think I love you."

"You may…" Bobby started to say after a moment, but the words choked in his throat. "Olivia," he said desperately. "There's so much wrong with me…"

"There's a lot not right with me," she answered, stunned by the confidence in her voice.

"I…I care about you…and…" He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm afraid…so afraid…that I'll hurt you."

"Or is it that you're afraid that you'll get hurt?" Olivia asked gently.

"I…I expect," he whispered. "I…" He dropped his head into his hands.

"Bobby." Olivia struggled to find the words to comfort him. "I…I care about you too…I'm afraid I'll hurt you…" She swallowed. "I'm not sure who I am either…"

It was there, now, standing in the room. The thing that Olivia thought, that Bobby knew, could destroy them.

"It's…I keep thinking…having dreams…when I was sick…" Olivia watched as he disappeared inside his head. "It…It makes sense…Why the man I thought was my father…treated me so…I…after a while I was just glad when he ignored me…If he knew…If he thought I wasn't his…"

Olivia clung to him. "What should I do?" she thought. "Should I make him stop?"

"And my Mom…my Mom…" He broke Olivia's heart. "She…she always wanted my brother…Even when I…I took care of her…I brought her things…but…her last birthday…I…She never opened the present I gave her…I found it with her things…"

Olivia's heart shattered. "Oh, Bobby…"

"But…but if…What if she looked at me…Every time she saw me…What if she saw the man who…Who hurt her…Who raped her?"

Olivia tried to hug him, but Bobby stiffened and pulled away from her.

"She…she was sick…the schizophrenia…before…" he muttered, and Olivia wondered if he was still aware of her presence. "But…it wasn't…bad…but…after he hurt her…It got worse…and worse…schizophrenia…it…stress can trigger it…make it worse…When he hurt her…I'm sure…It set off a bad episode…And then…What if…I was a constant reminder…and that…created more stress…and that made it worse? What if…what if…I…I…made her sick?" He shook, and Olivia saw tears in his eyes.

"Bobby." She took his face in her hands and turned it to look at her. She struggled to find something to say to him, to console him. She grabbed the only thing she could find. "My mother," Olivia said, her voice shaking. "My mother told me…"

Bobby stared at her; he never hated himself as much as he did at this moment. He was hurting Olivia.

"She told me once," Olivia continued. "That she hated…hated what happened…But she never hated me…She loved me…In spite of everything, she loved me…And I always believed that…Even when she was drunk…I always believed that she loved me…And I'm me…I'm not just what my parents gave me…I made choices that made me what I am…"

Bobby stared at the intertwined hands. "I…I don't know…I'm not as strong as you…And my Mom…I don't know if she ever…But…" Olivia knew he was far away again. "The last time…She…She was glad I was there…and there…there were other times…but…but she…I don't remember…I can't remember…My Mom telling me that she loved me…" His head fell again into his hand. "God, how pathetic is that…I'm not some kid…I'm a grown man…" He raised his head; his cheeks glistened with tears. "I…I'm sorry, Olivia…This…This must be so horrible for you…"

"It's horrible for you." She wrapped her arms around him, desperately hoping he wouldn't pull away. "I never knew your Mom…I only know you…But I can't imagine anyone who had anything to do with you not loving what and who you are."

He shook violently. "I…I'm so tired…Oh…" He fell into her arms, and she held him as he sobbed.

END CHAPTER 16


	17. Chapter 17

I had hopes that I might finish this before the Season 7 premiere, but I don't think I'm going to make it. Bobby will talk and endure angst, after all.

CHAPTER 17

Captain Danny Ross sighed as he left the Chief of Detectives' office.

"That man," Captain Don Cragen said. "Can be an ass."

Ross nodded wearily. "I can't blame him for wanting to clear the case…I want to clear this case…"

"I don't know anyone on our side who wants to keep it going," Cragen responded. "I'm not sure that even a few of the defense attorneys want to end it…"

"I wish the Chief didn't think the way to end it is to use Goren."

"He could say no."

Ross punched the elevator button with more force then he intended. "Don, you know Goren a little…Do you think he'll say no? Either because of his sense of duty or his curiosity, or both, he'll want to be in on this. And it's not just Goren's head I'm worried about…I'm not sure he's physically ready to be back at a desk, let alone in an interrogation room."

"I'm not the enemy," Cragen said. "I don't know Goren as well as you do, but I have to agree he won't stay away from this."

"What's worse," Ross said as the two captains stepped into the elevator. "Is that, as much as I hate to admit, the Chief may be right. Letting Goren at Bertelli might end all of this."

"I don't envy you," Cragen said. "Having to deal with Goren…and Eames…on this…"

Ross leaned against the elevator wall. "Yea…and I know I'm not going to let Goren anywhere near Bertelli without Eames there to back him up."

"I'll talk to them if you want," Cragen offered. "They might take it better from me."

"You are one of the good guys, Don," Ross smiled weakly. "No…I'll take the responsibility…but I'd appreciate the backup…"

"How you doing?" Alex asked Bobby as she handed him a cup of coffee.

"Not bad." He gave her one of his most winning little boy smiles. "Thanks for the coffee…But..." He looked at it skeptically. "Who made it?"

Alex smiled. "I did. It's safe and strong." She sat across from him. "SVU is going to miss us and our coffee when this is over."

"Yea." Bobby sighed. "But I think they'd be willing to trade us for the end of the case."

"You really ok?" Alex asked quietly. It was his first day back, and just a week ago he was lying in a hospital bed. Alex and Olivia protested his quick return to work, and Alex sensed Captain Ross was not entirely happy with the timing of Bobby's comeback. Bobby's doctors had cleared him for desk duty provided he take it easy. Bobby promised, but Alex and Olivia were skeptical. "After all," Alex said. "They don't know what a good actor he is."

But both admitted Bobby was on his best behavior on his first day back. He paced himself carefully through the morning, avoiding any major physical activity and restricting his work to a perusal of the files and interviews. The case had reached a plateau. Gregory Veneer was willing to turn on John Bertelli, but only if he received concessions the DA couldn't make. "He's not an innocent," an ADA told the detectives. "He has to take some responsibility." On his part, Bertelli continued to rant and rave and lay much of the responsibility for the crimes on Veneer. In spite of the evidence against him, Bertelli maintained he acted to save the boys, and Dr. George Huang reported that the ex-cop held a particular obsession with Detective Robert Goren. "I don't think he's insane," Huang said. "But I'm not sure we can go to trial." The press frenzy surrounding the case had eased, and Alex and Olivia were grateful that there was no horde of reporters waiting for Bobby upon his return to work. He'd ignored the many interview requests during his recovery, and the Chief of Detectives never did get his photo op. The subject of all this attention was remarkably calm—even happy—on his first day back. He'd cheerfully paid for a particularly complicated pastry from Alexis' favorite bakery when she picked him up and happily bought lunch. Munch, noting Bobby's attitude, inquired "So, what drugs they got you on, Goren?"

"Nothing I can get for you," Bobby replied dryly.

Even those who knew Olivia and Bobby well wouldn't have seen anything unusual in their encounters with each other that day, but Alex and Elliott, who knew both much better than well, saw the quick, quiet smiles between their partners. Bobby especially seemed calmer, more at ease, more focused, when Olivia was near, and Olivia seemed to find many reasons to walk by Bobby's desk.

"So," Alex said. "Fin and Munch have invited us to grab a drink after work. I think Stabler's coming too, which means Olivia's probably going."

Bobby flushed slightly and shuffled several papers. "Uh…I think Olivia might not be there."

Alex looked up with interest. "And why do you think that?"

"Uh…because…uh…I'm taking her to dinner tonight…"

"A date?" She tried to control her voice. "A real date?"

"I admit it's been a while since I had one," Bobby said dryly. "But this seems to fulfill the requirements as I remember them."

"Where are you taking her?" Alex asked excitedly. "Mancini's is really nice…And don't forget the flowers…"

Bobby studied her carefully over the top of the computer. "Eames…Who's going on this date, you or me?"

It was Alex's turn to blush. "Sorry…It's just…I'm happy for you, Bobby."

He smiled. "Thank you…I…I have to admit I'm nervous. I'm afraid I'll start babbling or something and scare her or bore her. I mean…Most of the time I've been with Olivia…I've been at work…or flat on my back…"

"You know," Alex said with a gleam in her eyes. "Some men would like that last thing."

"Eames…behave," Bobby said and struggled not to laugh.

From across the SVU squad room, Elliott Stabler watched Bobby and Alex. He fought briefly against a wave of jealousy. "Not their fault," he thought. "Don't blame Goren and Eames for having a good partnership…a great partnership…just because you've upset your own…" He glanced at Olivia, who was smiling at Goren and Eames. "Goren makes her happy…God knows why…He is a great cop…and a good guy…Weird, but good…"

"Liv."

Olivia looked at her partner and hoped he hadn't noticed her close and affectionate study of Alex and Bobby, particularly the latter. "Yea?"

"Munch and Finn are going to grab a drink as soon as we can get out of here. Eames is coming, which means Goren's probably coming if he's not too wiped out. You joining us?"

Olivia took a deep breath. "Actually…Bobby is taking me to dinner…"

Thoughts flooded through Elliott's mind, but he managed to seize the one that was happy for Olivia. "A real date?" he asked cheerfully.

"Yea…and…I'm a little…actually…a lot…" Olivia was enormously relieved that she felt she could confide in Elliott. "Nervous. I mean…Most of the time I've been with him we've been working on the case, or he's been hurt, or we're in the middle of some crisis. We…we haven't just been together a lot of time…He's such a bright guy, Elliott. All those books in his apartment…He's got a brain the size of a planet and he uses it. I'm afraid I'll bore him."

Elliott smiled. "I can't imagine you boring anyone, Liv. Besides, Goren would probably like reading to you. I wouldn't worry."

"Hey," Munch said as he walked up to Olivia and Elliott. "Captains…unhappy looking captains…in the room."

With a sinking feeling, Olivia watched Cragen and Ross approach Alex and Bobby. The dread increased as Bobby followed the captains into Cragen's office. Olivia shared a concerned with Elliott, stood and walked over to an unhappy Alex.

"What's going on?" Olivia asked.

"I'm not sure," Alex answered, her eyes on the door to Cragen's office. "All I know is that Bobby's not in trouble. Cragen and Ross both promised us that. But I head the Chief of Detectives mentioned."

"Well." Olivia sat across from Alex. "Maybe the Chief is insisting on that photo op with Bobby…"

"Maybe," Alex said uncertainly. "But I get the idea this is a lot bigger than that."

Very little work occurred in the SVU squad room for the next minutes. Its members' attentions focused on their Captain's office. After a half hour that seemed more like several hours, the door opened, and a grim faced Bobby emerged followed by an equally morose Ross. The Major Case Captain murmured a few words to Bobby, and his hand briefly hovered over Bobby's shoulder before Ross left the room. Bobby rubbed the back of his neck and returned to the desk where Alex and Olivia waited for him.

"What's going on?" Alex asked, making no effort to conceal her concern.

"Just…just…" Bobby hesitated. He couldn't lie to them. "The Chief of Detectives and the Brass…They want this case ended…They…"

"They want you to end it," Olivia said softly.

Bobby, staring at the desk, nodded.

"They would," Alex said angrily. "They want you to interview Bertelli…"

"Yea…They think I can rattle him into a confession that will stick." Bobby returned to rubbing his neck.

"I can't believe they would…" Olivia began.

"This is what happens when you're the Department's last resort," Alex said, bitterness creeping into her voice. "They'll use you up…"

"It's not Cragen or Ross' fault," Bobby said quickly. "And…there's a possibility…" He grabbed several files and tapes from the desk. "I…I need some time…" He walked away towards one of the interview rooms.

"Don't worry," Alex said to a stunned Olivia. "He needs some time alone. We go after him now, he'll snap at us. Give him about fifteen minutes, and he'll have some things worked out and we can talk to him."

"I'm going to talk with Cragen before that," Olivia said angrily. "They can't possibly think that a man who's barely recovered from…" She watched Bobby pace in the room. "He knows he can…He should…say no, doesn't he?" she pleaded with Alex.

"I don't know if he does," Alex said. "He's certainly not good at it."

As Olivia watched Bobby paced, she recognized that Alex was right. He grew calmer with every step, his mood moving from anger to resignation.

"People." Cragen appeared in the doorway of his office, his hang dog expression even wearier and sadder than usual. Trying to hide their anxiety about developments, the detectives gathered around him.

"Where's Goren?" Cragen asked.

"Interview room," Alex replied. "I'll get him."

He was leaning over the table and intently examining a photo when Alex entered the room.

"Cragen's called a meeting," she said as she leaned against the doorway. "You're going to do this…"

Without looking at her, he nodded.

"Olivia is very upset."

He rubbed the back of his neck.

"Not so much with you," Alex continued. "With the Brass…But she doesn't understand why you're putting yourself through this…"

"Because," he answered. "It's what I do…It's what I am…I have to do it…" He swept up the files and papers and brushed past Alex.

Alex and Bobby found a major storm brewing when they reached the SVU detectives. Alex was pleased that the SVU members were as upset by Bobby's potential interview of Bertelli as she was, but she was surprised that one of the most vehement opponents was Elliott Stabler.

"I know what this is," Stabler said, his blue eyes blazing. "It's the Brass…trying to save their rears…"

Cragen reddened, and Alex knew Stabler's dart hit home.

"It doesn't matter," Bobby's flat voice came from the back of the group. "I've agreed…"

"But why, man?" Flynn asked angrily. "Just to make the Brass look good?"

Bobby shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "Aw, come on, Finn…You know I don't care about the Brass." He failed miserably in trying for a light tone.

"What is this, Goren?" Munch asked darkly. "You got some desire to make up for your sins by dealing with Bertelli?"

Alex and Olivia's eyes met, and a lightning flash of understanding swept between them. They both looked at Bobby, whose face was a carefully controlled mask. "Even I'm not that weird, Munch," he replied lightly, but Alex and Olivia sensed the undercurrent of fear in his voice.

"That," Olivia thought. "May be a little too close to the truth."

"It's wrong," Elliott fumed. "Goren shouldn't have to do this."

"I may be the one person Bertelli hates enough to lower his guard around," Bobby said quietly. He stared at the floor. "Truth is, no one should have to do this."

Cragen stood desolately in the door to his office; Alex couldn't recall seeing him look more desperate throughout the case. "People," he said sorrowfully. "I don't like this. Captain Ross doesn't like it. But we have to make sure Veneer and Bertelli get what they deserve. And letting Goren interrogate Bertelli may be the only way to it."

Bobby was already headed back to the interview room; Alex followed him. The bright mood had disappeared, and a dark cloud settled over the SVU squad room. She stood in the door. "What are you doing?" she asked.

Bobby turned his hand slightly in her direction. "I'm looking at the tapes of the interviews with Bertelli. And these…" He pointed to several bulging files. "Huang and others' assessments of him."

"Bobby." She willed him to look at her. "You don't have to do this…Maybe it's too soon."

"It'll always be too soon, Eames," Bobby said flatly. "Admit it…You're not worried about my physical condition…You're worried about inside my head." His voice lacked any sense of confrontation.

"Yea," Alex said after a beat. "I am."

"It…" He started to pace. "I can't argue with you about it. Maybe it is too soon. Maybe I'm carrying too much baggage. But I've got to get used to carrying it if I'm going to do the job…I have to…"

"Can you at least let others help you carry the load?" Alex asked gently.

There was a long pause; Bobby paced back and forth. "I…I'll try," he finally said. "But I've carried so much by myself for so long…I…I don't know if I can change."

Alex smiled sadly. "Yea…You've carried your baggage and everyone else's."

Bobby glanced at her shyly.

"So," she said, leaning against the doorframe. "What's the plan?"

"I'd like to talk to you…and the SVU guys…about that," Bobby said.

It was late when the detectives finished their consultation. "C'mon, Fin," Munch said wearily. "We might be able to have one drink before I collapse."

"Elliott…Alex…You coming?" Fin asked.

"Yea…I've gotten through the last two hours by dreaming of margaritas," Alex answered.

Elliott walked up quietly behind Olivia, who closely studied Bobby in the interview room. Bobby had resumed his intense study of the tapes and files after the detectives' meeting.

"I suspect," Elliott said gently. "You're not getting dinner tonight."

Olivia shrugged and smiled sadly. "I suspect you're right," she agreed. "But I know what the job is like. And how and why he does his work are two of the reasons I…I care about him."

"You want to come with us?" Elliott asked. "Try to get Goren to come along?"

"I'll talk to him…But I doubt he'll come…"

She met Alex at the interview room door, and the two women shared a sad smile.

"Sorry," Alex said ruefully. "I'm afraid…"

"I know," Olivia said.

"I'm pretty sure he won't want to get a drink," Alex said. "But at the very least I wanted to try."

"What…what does he usually do before these?" Olivia asked, her attention focused on Bobby.

"What's he doing now," Alex responded, joining Olivia's study. "Looks at a lot of tape, listens to tapes, checks files…He prepares. He wants to be alone…It's why I won't press him…He tries, at least, to get something to eat, to rest."

"You're worried about him."

"Yea," Alex admitted. "I worry about him during interrogations anyway. They're brutal…You know that…And Bobby can be rubbed raw by them…Left bleeding…And with everything that's happened recently…and this case…I'm worried."

"We'll be there," Olivia said firmly. "We'll help him." She looked fiercely protective. "You go ahead, Alex…I'll make sure he gets out of here and gets some food and rest."

Alex hesitated. "You're sure?"

"Yea…I'll call you if I feel like I need reinforcements…but…I feel like he's my responsibility in some ways now."

"Ok." Alex smiled. "You know, you're another new factor in everything, too. But you're a good one. Don't worry…I don't mind sharing."

As Alex left the office, Olivia took a deep breath, knocked on the interview room's door, and entered.

For several moments Bobby, lost in a file, was unaware of her. He finally sensed her presence and looked up. He realized with growing alarm that long shadows filled the windows and that the office was nearly empty. He felt equally dark and empty.

"Oh, Olivia…I'm sorry…"

"No," she said firmly. "You don't have to apologize. You're doing your job."

He looked at her with enormous gratitude. "She understands that, at least," he thought. "She knows what the job takes…" He ruffled the file's edges. "Olivia…I'm so sorry," he said. "Dinner…"

"It's ok," she said. "We all got blindsided."

"No…It's not ok," he said in despair. "You deserve…You deserve better…I…I didn't even remember to call for a reservation…"

"Bobby," Olivia insisted. "It's ok…really."

He rubbed a large paw across the back of his neck. "You've done all of this stuff for me…and I can't even remember…"

Olivia plopped on the chair next to his. "Stop it!" she said severely. "It's not your fault and I'm not going to let you blame yourself for it." She tenderly touched his cheek and turned his head towards her. "The Chief of Detectives, maybe, but not you."

He calmed.

"When this case is over," Olivia said warmly. "I look forward to that date. So, let's get this over with."

"Ok." Bobby took a deep breath. "You…you should catch up with everyone…"

"Nope." She shook her head. "I promised Alex that I'd get you out of here and some food in you."

"Olivia," he said hesitantly. "I…I don't know what Eames told you…but…before these things…If I know they're coming…I…I usually…alone…"

"That's what Alex said," Olivia answered calmly. "And if you want to be alone, I'll leave you just as soon as I know you're fed and trying to get some rest."

Bobby sat staring at the files for several of the longest moments of Olivia's life. His eyes shifted from the files to the pile of tapes. "Ok," he finally said, and she felt ridiculously triumphant. "Could you help me put these away?"

They stopped at a diner not far from Bobby's apartment. He ordered pancakes and a glass of milk; Olivia ordered the same.

"Comfort food?" she asked. "I understand why no coffee…"

"Yea," Bobby admitted. "I'm going to have enough trouble sleeping tonight." He tore at the edges of his napkin. "And pancakes…It's one of the first things I learned to make."

"Me too," Olivia said. "And eggs…There always seemed to be eggs and the stuff to make pancakes in the house even if there wasn't much else."

He raised his eyes to meet hers, and, after a moment, reached out to seize the rope she'd thrown to him.

"Yea…We always seemed to have cans of soup, too…My Mom…Sometimes she'd go on these binges where she'd buy cases of it…It was one of the more…benevolent…symptoms…of…" He took a long drink of milk. "I figured out a lot of ways to make tomato soup more interesting."

They finished eating in a comfortable silence.

"You…you don't have to come all the way to my apartment," Bobby said tentatively as they left the diner.

"If you don't want me to, I understand," Olivia said quietly. "But I confess that I'd feel better if I did."

A breeze, just cool enough to be on the edge of being uncomfortable, eased down the street. Bobby shoved his hands into his pockets. "You know," he said, looking down the street as if he searched for the breeze's source. "I…I think I might feel better if you did too."

END CHAPTER 17


	18. Chapter 18

An interlude, of sorts.

CHAPTER 18

"Where is he?" the man shouted angrily.

"He's…he's in his room…It's the middle of the night…He's asleep…He's a boy…He needs his sleep…" The woman desperately tried to calm the man.

"Stupid little bastard!" The angry roar was closer now, and the boy huddled in the closet.

"Open up!" There was a terrible pounding on the bedroom door. "Open up, or I'll break down the door!"

The boy scurried to the back of the closet. He pulled several boxes in front of him, and, reaching up, yanked several coats and sweaters down to cover his body.

A horrible crash sounded beyond the closet door. "Bastard!" the man shouted. "Where are you?"

"No…no…Don't call him that," the woman cried. "He's not…"

A thump and muffled cries followed. The boy nearly sprang from his hiding place, but before he moved, a furious kick crashed the closet door open, the wood and hinges splintering with the force. The boy shrank back from the fury.

"I know you're in here!" the man yelled. He clawed at the boxes and threw them out of the way. "I'll find you!" He grabbed the piles of clothing and uncovered the terrified boy. A young Bobby Goren stared up at the savage face of Mark Ford Brady. Over the man's shoulder, Bobby saw his mother lying seemingly unconscious on the bed. A triumphant John Bertelli stood over Brady's shoulder and screamed, "There he is! Evil bastard! There he is!"

"No! No!" the child screamed as the two men reached for him. "No!"

"No! No!" Bobby bolted up. For several seconds, he sat in bed and gasped for breath. He struggled against the terrible dizziness and sick feeling that swept over him. Sweat poured from his body, and his sides hurt from his desperate breathing.

"Bobby…" Olivia appeared at the foot of his bed. "What's wrong?"

He struggled to rid his mind of the dream. "No…I can't let her see me like this…Not weak…Not afraid…" he thought.

"Bobby." She sat on the bed's edge and reached to turn on the lamp.

"No!" He grabbed her hand and pulled it away from the switch.

"You're soaking wet," Olivia said, her voice dripping with concern. "You're going to get chilled…"

Bobby fought not to shiver.

"Hey," Olivia said gently. "I have bad dreams too." She again reached for the lamp.

"Oh, hell," Bobby thought. "I can't…"

She flicked on the lamp. She expected him to look awful, but Bobby's appearance still shocked her. Sweat soaked his body; his T-shirt looked as if it had just been dipped in a pail of water. His hair was matted to his head, and his eyes were wide and lost.

"Oh, God, Bobby." She couldn't hide her shock. "It…it must have been an awful one."

"I…I… please, Olivia…I…I…please…please don't make me…It's not you…I swear…but…please…don't make me tell…Please…" He clutched at the damp sheets.

"Of course…You don't have to tell me…I…I don't want to relive the bad ones either. Especially right after I've had one." Her calm voice surprised her.

Bobby's breaths were more relaxed. "I…I did try to warn you," he said weakly.

Olivia smiled at him. "Yea…I can't say that I wasn't worried about what could happen." She tenderly brushed the damp curls off his forehead. "Better?"

"Getting there."

"C'mon…let's get you cleaned up before you get a chill…"

While he showered, she changed the bed. By the time he emerged from the bathroom, fresh sheets and a large glass of iced water waited for him.

"Everything ok?" she asked.

Bobby drained the water gratefully; the cool water soothed his throat. "Thank you," he said softly.

"Not a problem," Olivia said. "Think you'll be able to get back to sleep?"

He nodded. "I think so. I usually have only one bad dream a night." He hesitated as he turned towards his bed. "Olivia, I'm glad you're here."

Another wave of triumph rose in Olivia. She walked to Bobby and wrapped her arms around him. "I'm glad to be here," she said, her voice catching slightly in her throat. "I'm glad to help you."

He rested his chin on her head. He smelled of soap and shampoo and his T-shirt was soft against her cheek. Still holding her, he sat carefully on the bed. She sat next to him, her hand making soft circles on his back. He turned his head and brushed his lips across her eyes.

"I…I care about you, Olivia…I care so much…" His voice gently rumbled in her ears. "But…but…I need to get through tomorrow…I…I know it shouldn't make a difference…but it does. For some reason, it's terribly important." He swallowed. "I do want to be with you…if…you want me…"

"Of course I want you," Olivia murmured into his chest. "I want you very much."

"Thank you." He held her tighter. "Thank you…It's just…There's so much going on in my head…If I can get through tomorrow…It'll be better…At least, I hope it will."

"You should get more sleep," Olivia said. "Do you want me to go?"

Much to her and his surprise, he didn't hesitate with his answer. "I want you to stay."

She started to pull away, but he held her.

"Could you…please…stay here?" he whispered.

She looked at him in wonder.

"I promise…nothing will happen…"

"I might want something to happen," she said shyly.

He brushed his lips across her bangs, and she felt his gentle smile. "I'm afraid," he said wryly. "That I can't make any promises along those lines right now…But when this case is over…If you're sure…"

Olivia relaxed in his arms. It was a new—and both disconcerting and comforting—experience to be with a man who was so shy and gentle. "I'm sure," she whispered, and gently pushed him back on the bed. Bobby trembled. "Don't worry," she whispered. She rested her hand tenderly on his chest. "I won't force or hurt you."

Bobby carefully wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him. "Like I said…I'm glad you're here."

"I hope to be here a lot in the future." She laid her head on his chest and wrapped her arms around him.

"Maybe you won't," Bobby thought as he drifted towards sleep. "Not if you know who I am…If I learn what I really am tomorrow."

END CHAPTER 18


	19. Chapter 19

The interrogation

CHAPTER 19

Olivia woke with a start. She sat up and stared around her in confusion. "Bobby's apartment…I'm in Bobby's apartment…In Bobby's bed…Where's Bobby?" The aroma of strong coffee reached her. "He's made coffee…What a wonderful man…" She rose, and after a quick trip to the bathroom, padded into the main room of the apartment. Coffee cup in hand, Bobby stood in front of the balcony door that made up one side of the room. He'd showered and wore a finely woven cotton shirt and the slacks from one of his finest suits. The jacket from that suit hung elegantly on the back of his desk chair. A navy blue silk tie hung loose around his neck, and his black shoes shone so brightly that Olivia knew she could see her reflection in them. His hair was neatly combed, his beard shaved, and he stood at attention as he surveyed the world. He was strong and beautiful and vulnerable, and it took all of Olivia's will not to rush to him and wrap her arms around him.

"Hi," she said shyly.

He tilted his head in her direction. "Hi," he said with equal shyness. "There's…there's coffee…I can get you a cup."

"Thanks for the offer…I can get it." When she returned, Bobby remained at the window. All of his defenses appeared to be in full operation.

"We'll need to go by your place," he said softly, not turning to look at her. "We should leave a little early."

"Yea," Olivia said, unsure of how to approach him. "You…You look terrific this morning."

"Thank you."

They stopped briefly at Olivia's apartment. Following Bobby's lead, she slipped on her best suit, the one usually reserved for weddings, funerals, and testifying in the worst trials. Bobby offered to buy her breakfast.

"Are you hungry?" she asked.

"Uh…not really…" He fumbled with his leather binder as they stood outside her building. "But…I thought you…"

"Not really."

Bobby was silent during the cab ride to One Police Plaza. As they walked into the building, he tentatively touched her arm. "Thank you," he whispered. "I'm sorry I've been…But thank you…"

"You're welcome…and I understand."

They were the first of those working on the case to arrive. Bobby gave her a brief tour of the Major Case Squad and introduced her to the few detectives in the bullpen. He found her a chair and space on his desk. "I hate to leave…but I need to get ready…"

"Not a problem," Olivia assured him.

Alex arrived a few minutes later; Elliott, Fin, Munch, Cragen, and Huang soon followed. "So," Elliott said softly to Olivia. "This is how the other half lives…New computers…Lots of light…"

"Brass a few floors away…Everyone looking over your shoulder," Olivia answered genially.

A smile crossed Elliott's face. "Point taken…Where's Goren?"

"Preparing for battle." Olivia pointed at the interrogation room, and she and Elliott walked to it. Looking through the one way glass, they saw Bobby in the process of carefully arranging several folders and files on the table, almost obsessively placing them in neat, even, straight lines.

"Nice suit," Elliott observed. "He certainly dresses well for the fight."

"Elliott," Olivia said, her eyes not leaving Bobby. "Thank you for not fighting about having the interview here instead of at SVU. And for not insisting on being in on it."

"I understand what Goren's doing," Elliott answered evenly. "And I think it'll work…If…"

"If Bobby is all right…"

Elliott nodded sadly.

Alex appeared at their side. "My partner looks good, doesn't he?" she said proudly.

"So do you," Elliott answered, and Alex did look terrific in a carefully tailored black suit and heels that combined with her attitude to make her several inches taller. "You've got a nice place here, Eames. It should make an impression on Bertelli."

"Thank you," Alex said. "We kinda like it. And the plan is to intimidate Bertelli.

"Bertelli's here with his lawyer." Captain Ross walked up behind the three detectives. He studied Bobby carefully. "He certainly knows how to set the scene and dress the part." He turned to Alex. "He's ok?"

Alex looked at Bobby with more intensity than even that demonstrated by her Captain. "I won't lie," she said after a moment. "I wish he'd had more time to heal…his body and his head…But he says he's ok. And I trust him."

"All right," Ross said. "Let's do this."

Alex nodded and walked into the room. Bobby acknowledged her presence by a slight turn of his head. She followed his example by placing her files and photos with compulsive care on the table. They looked quietly at each other.

"Good Lord," Elliot said with a mixture of admiration and amazement. "They've got some sort of psychic link going on."

Bobby nodded to Alex, who walked to the door and opened it. "Bring him in," she said firmly. She returned to sit in her chair, but Bobby stood at attention, his hands behind his back.

Bertelli's lawyer, a harried grey man, entered first. Flanked by two uniforms, Bertelli followed. He wore the orange jumpsuit of a prisoner; his buzz cut was now a grey and uneven fringe around his head. The restraints around his waist and feet forced him to walk slightly bent over, but he glared at Bobby with undisguised hatred and rage. The guards released him from the shackles and chains on his feet, but as they moved to the handcuffs Bobby spoke.

"Leave the cuffs," he said with quiet authority.

Bertelli's lawyer began to protest, but Bobby silenced him with a sharp look and dismissive wave of his hand.

"He's accused of the worst crimes imaginable," Bobby said. "He's threatened witnesses and officers, including Detective Eames and myself. The cuffs stay on, and he's cuffed to the table."

If looks could kill, Bertelli's eyes would have stabbed Bobby as fiercely as the man's knife had slashed the detective.

"Sit down, John," Bobby said coldly as Bertelli briefly and uselessly struggled against the handcuffs being attached to the table.

"Don't call me…" Bertelli began.

"This," Bobby said coldly. "Is our room. Detective Eames and I own this room. All those detectives and police officers outside this room are our colleagues. Detective…Detective First Grade…Eames is my partner. The only person I address as Captain is someone who deserves it…People like Captain Cragen and Captain Ross. "

A stunned Olivia watched as Bobby transformed before her. It was a skill all good detectives possessed; she and Elliott were pretty good, Munch excellent in some situations, Fin brilliant in others. But Bobby was the best she'd ever seen. She couldn't see Bobby's eyes, so she had no idea if the gentle, frightened man she'd held in his bed the previous night lurked somewhere in them. What she saw of Bobby in the interrogation room revealed none of the man she loved, and a chill climbed Olivia's spine. "He's there," she thought. "Bobby…the Bobby I love…Is there. He's the real Bobby." A thought blazed across her mind, and she knew what terrified Bobby. It was less that Bertelli might attack or hurt Bobby, but that Bertelli might discover, might reveal, the dark side of Bobby's soul, the side that allowed Bobby to talk with, to understand, the John Bertellis of the world.

Bertelli was very confused and doing a poor job of concealing it. He tried to reconcile the Robert Goren who stood before him in the expensive suit and with the commanding presence with the disheveled, disorganized man who'd enraged him. Bertelli couldn't understand the rumors he'd heard describing Goren as one of the most feared and respected detectives of the NYPD. Bertelli was even more confused with the deference and respect other detectives showed Goren. And the confusion increased Bertelli's anger.

"I hear," Bobby said. "That you're having a difficult time at Riker's. Not a bunch of boys you can frighten there. They know what you are."

"They're criminals!" Bertelli shouted. The restraints held him in place. "I'm not one of them. I shouldn't be there!" He ignored his lawyer's desperate efforts to quiet him.

"No," Bobby said quietly as he sat across from Bertelli. "You're worse than them…and they know it." Bobby waved a hand across the carefully arranged photos of Bertelli's victims. "Tell me again, John. Why did you kill these boys?"

"I've told you…All of you…Veneer…He told me these boys…They were evil…They sinned…They were corrupt…Evil…"

"These boys did not sin," Bobby replied forcefully. "Gregory raped them…You both tortured them…Then you killed them…You judged them by your own evil standards…But they were not sinners…"

Bertelli continued to ignore his lawyer's increasingly frantic efforts to control him. "No! No!" he screamed, jumping and jerking at the handcuffs. "Veneer…Veneer said…"

"It wasn't Veneer," Bobby said calmly. "Gregory Veneer is a coward and a rapist, but he didn't kidnap and kill these boys. He probably would have never crawled out from under his rock to even come near them if you hadn't given them to him. You…they trusted you…just like Tony…You betrayed them…And you killed them."

Bertelli lurched forward again, his hatred and rage so intense that Alex fought to maintain her placid exterior.

"All right!" he screamed. "I killed them…I killed them…but for a good reason!"

Outside the room, the detectives and their captains knew they'd won. They finally had Bertelli's confession on tape, with his lawyer present. He'd taken responsibility for the deaths. There would be no need to bargain with Veneer or Bertelli, no need to continue to torture the boys' families. But Bertelli continued to scream his hate.

"I killed them to keep them from becoming you!" Bertelli lurched again. His wrists were raw and red from his constant battle with the handcuffs. "I know what you are! You can't fool me! That suit…this office…all of this…doesn't hide it…You're evil…Women…Drink…Drugs…If you're good at this job, it's because you're no better than the scum…the animals…And this bitch…" For the first time in the interview, Bertelli noted Alex's presence. As he did, Bobby exploded.

"No!" He slammed his hand on the table; the photos and files jumped in the air and fell out of their careful arrangements. "You do not have the right to discuss her. She is a First Grade Detective. An honored cop. She is senior to me in rank and ability. You will treat her with respect!"

Bertelli shrank before Bobby's rage. He pulled again against the handcuffs, but this time he did so in a desperate effort to get away from Bobby. His eyes blazing, Bobby leaned across the table, his muscles quivering beneath his suit. His eyes bore holes into Bertelli for several moments before Bobby slowly sat back in his chair.

"You know nothing about Detective Goren," Alex said calmly. "I don't see any commendations on your record, John…Not any real ones for real police work." Bertelli flinched. "Detective Goren…Detective First Grade Robert Goren…has awards you couldn't dream of…" Alex stood. "When we wear our dress blues, I'm surprised that he can stand, what with all the weight of his medals and commendations. Including a Medal of Honor…"

Outside the room, Elliott let out a low whistle of admiration.

In the room, Alex sensed Bobby's growing discomfort. He hated for his exemplary record to be noted. Alex's words clearly registered with Bertelli, but they were meant for her partner as much if not more that for the prisoner. She needed to remind Bobby of who he was, of the good and brave man he was every day.

Bertelli looked from Bobby to Alex and back to Bobby with increasing confusion. "No…You can't be…You can't have those awards…These boys…They would've become like you…"

"You mean good, brave men." Alex leaned over the table and glared at Bertelli. "That's what you kept them from becoming." She sat down.

"Ok," she thought. "Back to you, Bobby. Just remember…You are that good, brave man. You are not like this man…"

Bobby began to recover from his surprise at Alex's spirited defense of him. "Is that who I am?" he thought as he listened to Alex's words and watched Bertelli shrink away from them. "Am I what Alex thinks I am or what Bertelli thinks I am?" He stared at Bertelli. "Who knows you better? This…this warped, evil man who's met you maybe three times…Or this tough, smart, brave person who's been your partner and friend for seven years?"

Bobby rose slowly and stared down at Bertelli. "Evil, John," he said deliberately. "Is in you…It's in all of us…We all have the potential for good and evil…But we're not inherently evil…We make our paths…But these boys…" Bobby slowly waved his hand across the photos. "They never even had the chance to find their paths. Because. You. Took. It. Away. From. Them."

"No!" Bertelli raged at Bobby. "You…You're evil…I know…It's how you know…I…I see it…"

Alex again struggled to keep her face a mask. "Hold on, Bobby," she thought. "He doesn't know you…He only knows evil because he's evil…Don't believe him…"

Bobby stood at attention. Aside from his careful, regular breathing he might have been a statue. "Of course I know evil," he finally said deliberately. "I see it every day….But I chose…and choose…to fight it. You chose to accept it…To revel in it. I recognize evil, John. I'm looking at it right now."

"No…No…" Bertelli mumbled. "I…I saved…No…" He crumbled before Alex and Bobby.

Bobby leaned across the table. "No, John…They were victims of your evil….but you can save them."

His eyes glazed, Bertelli stared up at Bobby.

"Tell the truth," Bobby said gently. "Save them…Save yourself…"

Bertelli could just reach Bobby's hands; he clutched at them. "You…You know…"

Bobby leaned closer. "Tell me…Tell me, John…"

The words poured out in a flood from Bertelli. He clung to Bobby's hands as he revealed the details of the kidnapping, torture, rape and murder of the boys. The detectives knew most of these details. They had the evidence; they had the bodies; they had Bertelli's horribly detailed accounts of the assaults. But hearing it from the man made it all worse and much more real. Bertelli was no longer the arrogant, strutting man who first marched into the SVU squad room; he was a broken, terrified old man. Bobby was no longer his greatest enemy, but his savior. Watching from outside the room, the SVU detectives and the two captains were appalled by Bertelli's transformation; inside the room, Alex was sickened. Bobby maintained a stoic face as Bertelli spluttered to the end of his story. Bertelli's hands released Bobby's, and for the first time a crack appeared in Bobby's defenses as he jerked his hands away.

"You understand," Bertelli kept murmuring as he was led away. "You understand because it's in you…"

As the door shut behind Bertelli and the uniforms, Bobby sat heavily. He seemed to collapse from within, and slumped forward in the chair. He placed his elbows on the table and rested his head in his hands.

"Bobby," Alex said softly and gently. She moved to turn off the speakers in the room. "Let's get out of here…"

He didn't respond.

"Bobby," Alex said again, a grain of fear rising in her voice. "C'mon…Let's get out of here."

He looked up at her, and she nearly reeled from the pain and fear in his eyes. She steadied herself and returned his gaze.

"We need to get these files and photos together," she said calmly. She began to collect the materials spread across the table.

Bobby stirred, and slowly rose. He started to gather the files and photos, but hesitate. "Eames…" His voice was low and hesitant. "I…I'm scared…"

Alex looked at him. "What are you scared of?"

"Of…What will they think of me?" He moved one of the photos in a small circle on the table. Alex saw it was a picture of Tony Genoa. "I…I'm afraid of what I am…"

Alex touched him lightly on the arm. "They will think you're what I said you are…a good, brave, smart man. That's nothing to be afraid of."

He stared at Tony's photo for several seconds. "Ok," he finally said. "Ok." He gathered the remaining files and photos and followed Alex out of the room.

End CHAPTER 19


	20. Chapter 20

I apologize for the delay in the posting of the next chapter. I have been diverted, especially by the new season. And this chapter was hijacked at several points.

CHAPTER 20

"Way to go, man," Fin said admiringly as Alex and Bobby emerged from the interrogation room. "Guts and brains…You got them both and you know how to use them."

"Great job, Detective," Cragen said. "Very impressive. I think Mr. Bertelli's lawyer will be scrambling for a plea."

"You're as good as your reputation, Goren," Elliott said warmly. "Maybe better…So is Alex…That was some teamwork in there."

"I'm glad they're on our side," Munch said dryly. "They could cause a lot of damage if they worked for the bad guys."

The words came to Bobby through a haze, with each word of praise jabbing at him. Faces blurred in and out of his vision, and a desperate urge to run away filled him. He mumbled a few inadequate words of thanks and praise for Alex and the other detectives.

"Not bad," Elliott said. "Goren identified the crimes, saved a kid, and got a confession. Not a bad triple play."

A roaring filled Bobby's head, and he realized the only detective he didn't see was Olivia Benson. He blinked and turned away from everyone; he found George Huang intently examining him.

"Are you all right, Detective?" Huang asked.

"I…I'm ok…just a little tired," Bobby said. While he liked Huang, the psychiatrist was one of the last people he wanted to see at that moment. Bobby was certain Huang could see through him.

"It got pretty brutal in there," Huang said carefully.

"Yea!" Fin said enthusiastically. "For Bertelli!"

Bobby eased through the crowd of detectives. He saw Cragen's unusually relaxed face. "Good," he thought. "Maybe all of this will reflect well on Cragen and the Brass will let up on him a bit."

"Goren." Huang's voice broke in on Bobby's thoughts. "Are you sure you're ok?"

"I…Like I said…" Bobby's defenses were in full operation. "Just tired…Maybe a little bruised."

Huang and Bobby were isolated from the others in a corner. "If you want to talk," the psychiatrist said softly. He didn't expect Bobby to accept the offer, but out of his senses of professional ethics and personal admiration for the detective, Huang felt the need to make the offer. To Huang's surprise, Bobby seriously considered the offer for several moments.

"Thank you," Bobby said, rubbing the back of his neck. "But…I'm just tired. I'll be ok."

"All right," Huang said. "Just remember that the offer stands."

"I…I will…"

Huang stepped away, and Bobby looked desperately around him. The urge to run away overwhelmed him, and at least one thing he told Huang was true. He was tired, beyond exhaustion, more tired than he could ever remember. Even long, cold nights in Germany and Korea hadn't left him so tired. Even his bones seemed ready to collapse. He realized that of all the voices that surrounded and praised him, two were missing. He understood Alex's absence. She was doing her job—dealing with the uniforms, talking to Cragen, preparing the paperwork. She would be with him as soon as she could. But Olivia…Bobby shut his eyes and leaned heavily against the wall. He'd scared her. He'd become the creature he had to in the interrogation room and he'd scared her and he'd lost her and…

"Hey." He opened his eyes and looked into Olivia's worried gaze. She was frightened, he realized, but not of him. She was frightened for him. "How are you?"

He wanted to collapse, to fall into her arms and let her take care of, to save him, but his professional and personal pride prevented him. He huddled back against the wall.

Olivia sensed his exhaustion and something of his fear. "Let's start," she said gently. "With how you are physically."

"Tired," he admitted. "Just…so tired…"

"I'm not surprised," Olivia said calmly. "Your body's still healing…You didn't get a lot of sleep last night…You haven't had anything to eat today."

"Yea," Bobby sighed. "I…I need to help Alex…"

"Hey," Olivia said. "Don't run away…I'm not going to hurt you…And I'm not going to let you hurt me."

Bobby swayed. "I…I think I better sit down."

Olivia seized his arm and guided him to the closest chair. Bobby fell into it and leaned forward. He wanted to rest his head on a nearby desk and sleep.

"Bobby." Olivia's voice was tinged with fear. "Stay with me…"

He wearily lifted his head. "I'm ok," he insisted. "I…just decompressing…I…I could use some coffee."

Cragen appeared over Olivia's shoulder. "Goren? You all right?"

"Could you get him some coffee, Captain?" Olivia asked. "He's a little drained."

"Of course," Cragen said. "Great work, Detective. The Brass should be very happy." He turned and faced an unhappy Alex.

"Yea…That's what matters…Making the Brass happy," Alex said in a voice touched with bitterness.

"Eames," Bobby said. "That's not fair…You know that's not the most important thing for Captain Cragen."

"Thank you, Goren," Cragen said quietly. "I appreciate what your partner did," he said to Alex. "Because it ended this case. I'm very grateful for that."

"Sorry," Alex said. "It's just…I get tired of people using you, Bobby."

Bobby smiled weakly. "Right now, Eames, I won't argue with you."

Ross handed Bobby a cup of coffee. "I heard you needed this," he said. "Great job."

"But?" he asked after he took a long drink.

"The Chief of Detectives…"

Olivia and Alex winced.

"Wants to have a press conference announcing the successful conclusion of the case," Ross said. "And he wants the detective who cleared it to be there…"

"Detectives," Bobby said fiercely and loudly enough that most of the room could hear him. "This was a team effort. The SVU team did a great job. And Eames…No way I should be singled out."

"Detective," Ross said.

"You tell the Chief," Bobby stood. "He wants me…He gets everyone…I'm not going to get anywhere near the Chief or the press…"

"Bobby," Olivia said quietly. "Nobody will force you."

"Yes…Take it easy…It's not going to happen right away." Ross didn't back away from Bobby, but his tone was apologetic.

"Oh, God," Bobby whispered. "I…I'm sorry…I…I'm not thinking real clearly right now."

"I can't imagine why," Alex said dryly. "You've just tangled with a serial killer with a religious mania, just got out of the hospital, just…"

"Point taken," Ross said calmly. "Don't worry, Goren. I'll hold off the Chief. You and Eames head over to SVU. Get out and away from here. I'll tell the Brass the case is SVU's and you both need to assist with the clean up. And I'll remind them that the success is the result of a lot of people."

Bobby rubbed the back of his neck. "Thank you," he said softly.

Ross started to go, but turned back. "Eames, Goren…just a word…If you want to get…lost…on the way to or from SVU…and grab some down time…I don't want or need to know." He smiled. "And it was great work, Goren."

Olivia and Alex both wanted Bobby to take advantage of Ross not so subtle suggestion, but he stubbornly refused. "I can do something…should do something," he insisted. But he nearly fell asleep in the SUV.

"Maybe we should take off somewhere," Olivia whispered to Alex. "Just take the rest of the day."

"It's tempting." Alex smiled. "But Bobby would have a fit.

When they arrived at the SVU squad room, Cragen greeted Bobby and Alex with a frown. "I'm grateful for all you've done," he said. "But both of you should be getting some rest."

"Sorry, Captain," Alex said. "But it was either you or the Chief…and we like you a lot better."

"The Chief is going to develop a serious inferiority complex," Cragen said.

The atmosphere in the SVU squad room was relaxed, almost triumphant. Stabler treated Bobby and Alex as visiting royalty. Bobby grew increasingly uncomfortable with the attention.

"Why don't you slip off to the crib?" Alex suggested. "You can get some sleep and get away from all this."

Bobby stared at the pile of paperwork in front of him. "Yea," he said. "It's not like I'm accomplishing anything here." He stood and wavered. "Eames…Could you…let Olivia…know where I am? I…I'm not ignoring her…It's just…I…I know what I want to say to her…but I don't know how to say it."

"Bobby Goren struck speechless," Alex smiled. "You must have it bad."

"Yea…Yea, I do," he admitted. "And…if Olivia doesn't mind…I don't care if everyone knows about it."

Alex felt ridiculously happy for Bobby as he walked away. "Calm down, girl," she thought. "You should spend as much time dealing with your life." She returned to dealing with the files on her desk.

"Alex." Alex looked up to see Olivia approaching the desk. She pointed to the stairs. "Bobby's in the crib."

Olivia grinned as she passed by Alex. "So, you have ESP with people other than your partner."

"More like I have a decent brain," Alex said. "He's in pretty good shape, but you know…approach with caution."

"Gotcha." Olivia hesitated for a moment. "Alex…I'm not sure how to ask this…But…Look…" She stepped closer to Alex, who gave her an encouraging look.

"I know Bobby has a lot of issues…Hell, I have a lot of issues," Olivia shrugged. "It's probably one of the reasons why we're drawn together. I don't know If I can deal with him or he can deal with me, but I'm willing to try…But…but…he's so smart." Olivia glanced around them and sat next to Alex. "I'm afraid…I'll bore him," she confessed.

Alex smiled. "Yea. His brains intimidated me when we first met. I couldn't quite believe it at first. That he knew all that stuff and that he could pull it together. I thought there had to be some trick or that he was wrong. But he's the real thing. But you know…Bobby's really not proud of it."

Olivia nodded. "Yea…I think he's embarrassed by it…Just like he is by praise."

"You get him, at least," Alex said. "It's more than what most people do. You know he doesn't do stuff to show off. He does it because it's his job or because he thinks other people want to learn and know stuff as much as he does. It's sweet, really…Sometimes he's just this big kid."

The two women shared a smile.

"I thought I'd bore him, too," Alex said. "Or I'd spend all my time running after him. But once I gave him a chance, and he realized that I was giving him that chance, he started explaining things. If he knows you're listening, he'll explain things. And he'll listen to you. If you like to learn stuff, you'll be fine. You won't bore him. And remember, you're as good at the job as he is, Olivia. Better, in some ways."

"Thanks for the pep talk, Alex." Olivia stood.

"Hey," Alex said genially. "I think you're more than good enough for him. Don't worry."

Olivia descended the stairs to the crib with equal amount of anticipation and worry. "We could really hurt each other," she thought. "But I think it's worth taking the chance. Now if I can just convince him of that…"

Her eyes adjusted to the dim light. Bobby hadn't gone far. He sat hunched over on a bunk a few rows from the stairs. His elbows rested on his knees, and he stared into space. He looked utterly and completely drained, his great dark eyes horribly empty. This emptiness scared Olivia as much if not more than if she saw despair or anger in those eyes. Those emotions would at least show that Bobby was still alive inside, that he still fought. Olivia cautiously approached him.

"Hey," she said softly.

He blinked, and for an awful moment the terrible emptiness remained. One of his large paws swept across his face, and Olivia thrilled to see glimmers of the Bobby she loved flicker in his eyes.

"Hey," he said softly, his eyes dropping to study the floor.

Olivia sat across from him.

"Have you ever," he asked in a voice eerily devoid of feeling. "Been so tired that you can't sleep?"

Relief swept Olivia. He was trying to reach out to her. "Yea," she said, leaning forward so that their knees nearly touched. "Or so afraid of what you might see in your dreams."

One of his hands found one of hers. "I…I…Could you help me get out of here?"

Her heart thumped wildly as she realized what a leap of trust Bobby had just taken. "Sure," Olivia said, hoping that her voice didn't betray too much of her mixed feelings of fear and triumph. Impulsively, she hugged him. Bobby stiffened in surprise, and then fell into her embrace.

"I…I'm so tired…and hungry…and confused," he confessed. "I'm grateful for all this praise…but I don't deserve it…I don't want the attention…But I don't know what I want or need…"

"It's ok," Olivia said gently. "Let's start with getting some food, ok? If you decide you want to go home and get some rest, we'll do that. Ok?"

"Ok." He sounded like a very young and relieved child.

They stood, and for a moment Bobby held her. He rested his head on hers. "Thank you," he said warmly and softly. "I don't know how I would've gotten through the past few days without you and Alex."

"You're welcome," Olivia answered. "And thank you."

Bobby looked at her in surprise. "What for?"

"For trusting me. I know it's hard for you to trust people," Olivia said. "I have some problems with that myself."

He touched her face with his long, supple fingers, and Olivia thrilled to their warmth. "It seems to me," Bobby said deliberately. "That you've got those issues pretty well under control. Certainly a lot better than me…"

"C'mon," Olivia said and took his hand. "I know the back way out of here."

"Should we let Cragen or someone know?" Bobby asked as he meekly followed her.

"Cragen's given us a free pass," Olivia said brightly. She led Bobby past rows of bunk beds.

"So did Ross…but I feel bad…Some day I am going to have to face the Chief of Detectives," Bobby said.

"Well, he'll only show up if there's a bunch of cameras around," Olivia answered. She headed for a door hidden in a far corner. "You got everything you need?"

"I got this." Bobby held up his binder. "I'm good."

"What's in that thing anyway?" Olivia waved for a taxi. "Munch things you've got an encyclopedia hidden in there."

Bobby smiled. "Ah…just some of my secrets…and my favorite pen…"

There was no discussion of their destination. Olivia felt going to Bobby's apartment made the greatest sense. They sat awkwardly in the cab, closer than friends or professional partners would, but not as close as lovers. But Bobby did reach for Olivia's hand and gently held it.

"Are you hungry?" he asked as the cab neared his apartment.

"Yea."

"You like Thai food?"

"Yea…I mean the one time I had it, I did," Olivia said. "I have to warn you…I'm not horribly sophisticated, Bobby."

"You think I am?" Bobby smiled. "I just try everything. I hate limits."

His smile warmed all the way through Olivia's body. "You'll keep me from burning my mouth?"

"I swear," Bobby said as he leaned forward to give the driver the new address. "I'll make sure you're safe. We've both had plenty of encounters with fire recently."

They arrived at a small, brightly lit storefront.

"I know it doesn't look like much," Bobby apologized as he paid the cab driver. "But the food is great. And since you're here, I can get some rice pudding to share."

"Rice pudding?" Olivia said skeptically. "You don't mean that stuff they gave us in school?"

Bobby looked at her in mock shock. "Good God, no! This is food from heaven. Don't even mention it in the same breath with that vile stuff…"

Olivia laughed as they entered the restaurant. It was a small but thriving family operation. A young teenaged boy and a slightly younger girl were seated at a table scattered with papers and books near the kitchen. In the kitchen Olivia glimpsed an older man and woman happily chattering in a language she guessed to be Thai as they tended to the contents of various pots and pans. There were only five tables in the neatly arranged, compact, cheerfully decorated space, and Olivia thought that from the restaurant's size and frequently ringing phone that much of its business resulted from takeout and delivery customers. A woman in her middle thirties and with honey colored skin and dark, shiny hair emerged from the kitchen.

"Mr. Goren!" she said with delight. "We haven't seen you for a while…except on the TV…"

Bobby flushed slightly, and Olivia feared he might suffer another attack of unwarranted guilt. But the children, apparently used to concentrating in the midst of the restaurant's chaos, became aware of his presence.

"Officer Bobby!" the little girl cried as she ran to him.

"Hey, May," Bobby said warmly as he returned the girl's hug. "How are you?"

"Good," she beamed up at him.

The boy approached Bobby with all the dignity a thirteen year old could muster. "Hi, Detective Goren," he said politely.

"Hi, George." Bobby gravely shook the boy's hand. "How'd your science project go?"

"Great," the boy answered. "I got the best grade in the class. Thanks for introducing me to the lady at the museum."

"Excellent," Bobby said, and he and George banged fists.

He knew the family, of course, and was one of its first and most faithful customers. The grandparents, whose command of English was as shaky as their cooking was excellent, reigned in the kitchen. Their son handled the books and some deliveries. His wife handled the register, the purchase of supplies, and aided in the kitchen. As Olivia and Bobby ordered, the eldest son appeared and briefly greeted Bobby.

"Thanks for the reference," he said as he gathered several orders. "It really helped."

Bobby stared at his plate. "You deserved it, Mike. And I'm sure that some of the other references were more important."

"This," Olivia thought. "Is a very good man." She wondered if any of her colleagues would consider Bobby Goren capable of these small acts of kindness.

The food was delicious, and, after her introduction, Olivia felt that she was at least a good friend of if not part of the family. The grandmother in particular seemed to regard Bobby as another child or grandchild and made the gently clucking noises of affection and concern in the universal language of mothers and grandmothers over the world. In spite of the large amount of food, Olivia and Bobby managed to leave room for the rice pudding. As Bobby promised, the sweet and savory concoction bore no resemblance o the watery slush Olivia remembered from school cafeterias. They snuck the occasional bite to the two children, and at one point Bobby offered them aid with their homework.

"I'm sorry," Bobby said at one point as he looked over the little girl's head at Olivia. "I guess this isn't a conventional date."

"It's terrific," Olivia replied. "And I don't want or expect anything conventional from you."

"Officer Bobby," the little girl asked. "What does your friend do?"

"My friend." Bobby proudly looked at Olivia. "Is also a police detective…A very good police detective…"

The little girl stared wide eyed at Olivia. "Girls can be police detectives too?"

"Yes, they can," Bobby said. "My partner Alex is a girl and she's the best detective I know. Olivia is almost as good as Alex."

"I thought you were the best," the boy said. "You've been on the TV and in the papers and they all say…"

Bobby stared at his hands for a moment, and Olivia's heart bled for him. "Bobby," she said. "Is one of the best detectives. I'd say he's better than me and Alex in some ways."

Gratitude shining in his eyes, Bobby looked up at her. "Well," he said. "It takes a lot of good detectives…a lot…"

After many farewells and promises, they finally left and walked out into the crisp, cold air.

"I hope," Bobby said tentatively. "That wasn't overwhelming for you…"

"It was wonderful," Olivia said. "It was fun…" She carefully rested her hand on his arm. "I didn't have a chance to be nervous."

Bobby smiled at her, and Olivia felt her insides turn into pleasant goo. "I…I know it's not the most romantic place…But I…I thought it would be comfortable." He cautiously looped his arm through hers, and his heart jumped slightly when she moved closer to him. "It's just…I thought we didn't need any more pressure…and I knew the food would be terrific…And a first…" He looked at her shyly. "Uh…I guess this is a first date?"

Olivia wondered that he could be such an appealing combination of man and boy. "It's strange, isn't it?" she said. "We've been thrown together so much…but I guess this was our first date. But I'm not nervous. Guys usually try for some big romantic gesture, and I get nervous…"

Bobby stopped walking and pulled her gently closer to him. The smoke of the breaths in the cool air mixed together.

"I can give you the big romantic gesture," Bobby said huskily. He cupped Olivia's face in his large, soft, warm hands and kissed her deeply and passionately. For several moments she couldn't breath, couldn't think.

"Bobby," she gasped. "How close is your apartment?"

He was so close to her that she couldn't separate the sound and feel of his heart from her own.

"Are you sure, Olivia?" His voice gently rumbled in her ears.

"Oh yes…yes…"

The shrill beeps of their cell phones broke through the night.

END CHAPTER 20


	21. Chapter 21

WARNING: At last we have consenting adults doing what they do in private.

Chapter 21

"Partners…"

"Gotta love 'em…"

"Even when they do stuff you hate…"

Bobby leaned back on his couch. "Well, I have to confess…I would've called Eames at some point tonight…She…since…" Confused, he leaned forward and ran a hand through his hair. "We…We just let each other know…that…well, not necessarily that we're ok, 'cause we're not always ok…Particularly recently…but…just to let the other one know we're still breathing…And…uh…"

Olivia gently rubbed his back and decided to end some of his misery. "Alex told me how you help with each other's nightmares."

Bobby turned to face her. "You're remarkable…"

"I'm a cop," she answered simply. "I understand how these things happen."

"I guess…we have to accept that there're four people involved in this," Bobby said.

"Yea…"

"And one…Stabler…isn't thrilled about it…"

Olivia frowned. "He…He's very protective of me. Sometimes too much."

"I can't blame him," Bobby said. "Sometimes Alex introduces me to guys…I try to keep my mouth shut."

"Elliott hasn't learned that," Olivia said dryly. "Although, I have to admit…I don't introduce my dates to him…Not that there's been many of them lately…It's usually tough enough just to get past their fear or obsession with my being a cop." She smiled. "What does Alex think of your dates?"

"She…she doesn't say much." Bobby leaned back against the couch. Olivia's hand reached up to touch the back of his neck. "Truth is…like you…I try not to let my personal life get into my job life…Lately though…It's been hard…And there haven't been any…" He leaned forward again and held his head in his hands. "Oh, God…Olivia…I'm so scared…so tired."

"I've had more energy myself," Olivia said wryly. She wrapped her arms around him and gently pulled him down so that his head rested in her lap. His trust and lack of resistance thrilled her. Her hand wove through his curls.

"Oh, Olivia…I think…I think I love you." Her body muffled his voice. "I've never felt this way about anyone…I…I want to be with you…to make love with you…But…" He chuckled. "It ain't going to happen tonight…I'm sorry…"

Olivia brushed her lips across his curls. "I want to be with you, too," she said softly. "But I'm wiped out too. And I haven't been through nearly as much as you lately."

"You…Everyone…Have done plenty." He turned so that he looked up at Olivia. "You…you can have the bed…I'll stay here."

"Bobby, is your bed tiny or something?" she asked, torn between exasperation at his reticence and touched by his consideration.

"Uh…no…I just thought…"

She brushed an errant curl from his forehead. "You think I'll give you cooties."

He smiled. "I haven't believed in cooties since I was ten." He frowned. "But…I…You know I have bad dreams…"

"I have them, too," Olivia said. "Maybe we can keep them away…Or at least get each other through them."

He touched her chin. "Olivia…The thought that I could hurt you…"

"I know."

"I wasted so much energy when I was a kid," Bobby said wistfully. "C'mon…I'll get you something to sleep in." He rose.

Bobby remained in the main part of his apartment while Olivia readied for sleep. His shyness and thoughtfulness amused and touched her. He waited until she was comfortably and modestly under the covers before he scurried to the bathroom. Olivia rested her hands behind her head and fell back against the pillows as she waited for him. She looked around the small sleeping area. Like the rest of the apartment, it almost totally lacked personal photos or items. There were a few pictures on the shelves next to the bed. One showed Bobby and another young man in front of a handsome vintage car. Another showed a glowing Alex Eames and befuddled Bobby at some police function. Another, slightly frayed and cracked inside its frame, showed a beautiful young woman with curly black hair and large dark eyes with her arms wrapped around a laughing little boy with the same dark curls and eyes.

"Bobby," Olivia thought. "And his mother."

"Hey," Bobby said shyly. He stood awkwardly at the side of the bed. "Uh…are you sure about this? I can always go to the couch…"

Olivia moved to make room for him. "Yes, very sure."

He sat tentatively on the bed, and Olivia placed a reassuring hand on his back. His T-shirt's worn cotton felt soft against her palm. "It's ok," she said. "I don't feel like I'm in any danger…And I wouldn't mind if I were…"

His body smiled. He turned off the bedside light and slipped beneath the covers. Olivia nested on his chest, and his arms wrapped around her.

"I read this article once," he said softly. "The author argued that the sexual act wasn't the most intimate moment between two human beings. He wrote that sleeping together was. We're at our most vulnerable when we sleep. To fall asleep with another person is the ultimate act of trust."

"Even when you're exhausted?" Olivia murmured against his chest.

"Maybe especially when you're exhausted…"

"I think we may be about to prove that," she murmured.

The warm, rich smell of coffee woke her. Olivia blinked, stretched, and yawned. For a moment, she looked around her in confusion, and then she remembered she was in Bobby's bed. She smiled as she realized she'd slept—really slept—for several hours. It'd been a long time since she'd slept so well for so long. She reluctantly threw the covers back and rose from the bed. There was just enough of a chill in the air to make the short trip to the bathroom slightly uncomfortable, but the room still held the warm steam of a recent shower.

"I hope," Olivia thought as she splashed water on her face. "That Bobby slept as well as I did." She stepped from the bathroom to discover Bobby sitting on the bed. He sipped from a cup of coffee; another sat on the bedside table. He smiled at Olivia, and she felt a warm glow flow through her.

"I couldn't remember," he said shyly. "How you took your coffee. It's black, but I can get you some sugar. No milk, I'm afraid…"

"Black," she said. "Is just fine." She took a long drink of coffee and sat next to him.

"Uh…uh…Bertelli is being arraigned today," he stuttered. "We…we should be there…"

"Do we have to?" She sat her coffee on the table and her fingers began to play with the buttons on Bobby's shirt.

"Olivia," Bobby murmured. He sat his coffee next to hers. "I want…I want our first time…to be special…to last…not…"

She smiled. "Bobby, you may have noticed that we're not getting much time. If we wait for the perfect time, there's never going to be a perfect time." She kissed him on the nose.

He gently turned her back on the bed. "You're right," he murmured and kissed her deeply and warmly. One of his large hands slipped beneath her T-shirt to softly touch her breasts as he rained kisses on her face and neck. He stopped abruptly, and Olivia cried softly at the loss of contact. Bobby stood at the side of the bed and quickly shed his shirt. Olivia reached for his belt and released it. Bobby's pants and socks joined his shirt on the floor. Wearing his boxers and T-shirt, he draped his body over Olivia's.

"You're sure?" his voice rumbled in her ear.

"Bobby," she replied as she pulled the shirt over his head. "I think I've been ready since the first time I saw you."

Much to her disappointment, he ceased his gentle assault on her body. "You mean," he said, looking down at her in amazement. "That…that first…day…hmph!"

She finally freed him from the T-shirt, and tenderly brushed the fine, soft hair on his chest.

"I…I'm sorry," he said shyly. "I'm not in the best shape…It's…it's been…"

"Hey…" Olivia held his face in her hands. "No one…nothing…else is allowed in her. Only you and me…"

"Ok," he whispered and reached for the bottom of her T-shirt.

The demons and nightmares in Bobby's mind cowered in a tiny corner of his mind, banished there by Olivia's courage and love. All of his named and unnamed fears fled from her. He gazed reverently at her as she slipped off her underwear and added them to the pile of clothes on the floor.

"I'm not in the best shape of my life either," she said wryly.

"You're…you're beautiful," Bobby murmured. "You're the most beautiful, wonderful thing I've ever seen." He rapidly shed his boxers.

"You're beautiful, too," she whispered. She sat up and for several moments they held each other, neither quite believing they were at last together.

"I…I don't want to hurt you," Bobby finally said. "I…I love you, Olivia…I…I can't give you anything…anything but me…and…and that's…"

"Everything," she said and touched his chest.

Bobby rested his head against her shoulder, and then kissed it. "Well, for what it's worth," he said, his mouth creating tiny flames on her skin. "You have me." He gently pushed her back on the bed.

Olivia Benson wasn't an inexperienced girl. In her life, she had occasionally and almost always regretfully sought the comfort and oblivion of sex. Most of her bed partners had been serious ones, however, and she sensed that Bobby Goren wasn't casual about his relationships either. The fact that he was concerned as much if not more about her pleasure as his own spoke of that. But she was stunned by his care and gentleness, by the passion and tenderness in his touch. He set her body on fire with one hand and kiss, and then soothed and comforted it with the other hand and another kiss.

"My God," Olivia thought just before she lost the ability to form a coherent thought. "If he can do this to me now, he may kill me when I come…and I don't care…"

Bobby's thoughts were equally fevered and confused. "She's so beautiful…so wonderful…Don't let me hurt her…Please…Oh, God…Olivia…Olivia…" He chanted her name as he worshipped her body.

"Bobby…Bobby…" she answered as she clung to him.

He entered her as gently as he could, but she seized his body and pulled him to her. "Yes," she gasped. "Yes." He raised his dark eyes to meet her lighter ones, and the love he saw there shook him to the center of his being. He wanted to scream in joy, but his voice was lost.

He lay spent and exhausted across her body. She was warm and soft, and Bobby felt safe and loved. "Love," he thought. "She loves me. Someone loves me. And I love her." Tears filled his eyes.

"Bobby?" Olivia asked gently. "Are you all right?" Her voice shook. "My beautiful, brave Bobby…"

He struggled to find his voice. Olivia tenderly kissed his curls, and his fragile self control collapsed. He wept with joy and relief as she held and soothed him. After several minutes, he gingerly raised his body and looked at her.

"I…I'm sorry," he said as he touched her cheek. "It…It was so wonderful…You were so wonderful…"

Olivia tenderly wiped the tears from his face. "You were pretty wonderful too."

Bobby shifted so that she could rest on him. "I…I didn't hurt you?"

"No." She curled against him. "You're nice and warm."

He smiled. "That…that was worth the wait."

"Yea, but I'm glad we don't have to wait any more. And I hope we don't have to wait too long for another…"

Bobby's smile became a wicked grin. "I think I can promise you that."

She lay happy and content in his arms, and they drifted, not quite asleep but certainly not awake. It had been a long time since Olivia had been with anyone, and she had never been with anyone quite like Bobby. As she dozed, she listened to the comforting sound of his breathing and the soft, regular beating of his heart.

"You know," he whispered apologetically. "We should at least call in…"

"Do you always spoil the mood?" she teased.

"Hey, I can be pretty good at setting the mood." His lips brushed against her hair. "We should at least make an appearance…and then I'll buy you breakfast…or lunch…or something…"

"All right," Olivia smiled. "But we need to stop by my place so I can change…I don't want to feed the rumor mill too much…"

"Ok." Bobby rose from the bed, and Olivia enjoyed the sight of his back muscles. "But I'm afraid one look at me will get the rumors going…" He turned and smiled at her.

It was mid-morning when they traveled in a cab to Olivia's apartment. They sat holding hands and ignoring the driver's smile. Olivia had showered, dressed, and was adjusting an earring when her cell phone rang. She frowned at the sight of Elliott's number on the display.

"He better not be checking up on me," she thought, and heard the distant ring of Bobby's cell. She answered hers with a growing sense of dread.

"'Liv." Elliott's voice was strained.

"Elliott…What is it?"

"Look…I'm not snooping…It's none of my business…But it's important…Are you with Goren?" Elliott sounded so genuinely apologetic and upset that her spark of anger was easily quenched.

"Yes."

"Ok." Elliott took a deep breath. "Eames is calling him right now. The guards at Rykers…They found Bertelli this morning…He hung himself…"

Her blood turned to ice in her veins.

END CHAPTER 21


	22. Chapter 22

Here, at last, is the end. I probably should've ended on the last chapter. This has no relation to the events of the current season.

Chapter 22

Olivia didn't remember shutting her phone or saying goodbye to Elliott. She still clutched the phone when she rushed into the living room. Bobby stood in the middle of the room. He held his cell phone and stared at it as if it were a strange and terrible beast.

"Bobby," she said softly. "This wasn't your fault."

He didn't acknowledge her presence, but continued to stare at the phone. He trembled.

"Bobby," she said again, desperately trying to control her voice. "Please…Listen to me…You are not responsible for this…"

He didn't turn to face her. "Eames…Told me…Bertelli…Left a note…I need to get there…To find out…"

Olivia stepped closer to him. "Bobby…You are not responsible for this…Bertelli was an evil man who refused to deal with the consequences of his actions. You are not responsible for what he did."

She stood directly behind him. Only a few inches separated them, but she didn't dare touch him. Olivia had rarely felt so helpless.

"Bobby," she said. "I'm here…I'm here and I love you."

For a moment, it seemed he hadn't heard her. His body shook, and the phone slid from his hand to clatter on the floor. He spun to face her, and it took every bit of Olivia's will not to shrink away from the pain and fear she saw in his eyes. She braced herself and tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm here," she said again. "I'm here and I love you and I want to help you."

He blinked. "You…you shouldn't have to…"

She placed her other hand on his other shoulder. "I love you…You help the people you love…"

He trembled beneath her touch. "I…I know…I know that's how it's supposed to be…But it never has for me…The people who were supposed to love me…They didn't help me…Maybe they never loved me…"

"I love you," Olivia insisted. "And I won't leave you."

He wavered for several moments, and she held her breath. She tightened her grip on his shoulders. "Bobby…please…please believe me…I love you…And I'll take care of you…I'll help you…Please let me help you…"

Bobby shivered and fell into her arms. The force sent Olivia back against the couch, and she fell on it. Bobby dropped heavily to his knees in front of her.

"I'm sorry…I'm sorry," he mumbled as she held his head.

"It's all right," she said softly. "I'm here. You don't have to be alone." In spite of her pain at Bobby's terrors, triumph rose in her as Olivia realized he trusted her. Another thought filtered into her mind. "And I don't have to be alone."

Bobby raised his head to look at her. "You mean…me…I…"

"Yes." She brushed her lips across his forehead.

For several moments they held each other.

"You know," Olivia finally said. "That can't be good for your knees."

Bobby pulled reluctantly away from her. "Yea," he agreed and moved awkwardly to his feet. "You ok?"

"Yes…You know we don't have to go in," she said cautiously.

"I know…but I…I have to…"

"Well, if you're going in, so am I," Olivia declared.

The ride to the SVU squad was quiet, but when Olivia reached for Bobby's hand, he didn't pull away. He wrapped his long, elegant fingers around hers. When they arrived outside the building that housed the SVU, Bobby hesitated on the sidewalk. Olivia touched him on the arm.

"This shouldn't be hard, Bobby," she said. "No one will mourn Bertelli…He saved the taxpayers a lot of money…No one will blame you…"

Bobby glanced at her. "I…I thought you…you understood…" He pushed past her towards the entrance.

"Bobby." Olivia rushed after him and caught his arm before he opened the door. He stopped, but didn't look at her. She pushed him to a corner where they were shielded from curious eyes and ears.

"I don't understand everything," she said quietly. "I don't understand why you feel you have to save the Bertellis of the world."

Bobby stared at the ground.

"But I do understand…or at least think I do…why you feel like you have to try to understand them."

He looked at her, and a glimmer of hope appeared in his eyes.

She placed a hand on his chest. "You want to try to understand them so that you can stop them from being created…So that you can stop them from hurting people…"

He released a ragged breath. "Yes…Yes…That's it…I don't want to make excuses for them…I want them punished…I…I'm not like them…" The last thought hit Bobby with great force, and he shook. "I'm not like them."

"No," Olivia said fiercely. "You've not like them."

Bobby looked at her with amazement and gratitude. "Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you."

When they entered the SVU squad room they encountered Munch just inside the door.

"Major meeting," he said, nodding his head in the direction of Cragen's office. "Ross, Cragen and our dear friend the Chief of D's."

Bobby sighed. "I guess I have to face him now."

Cragen and Ross, looking nearly as weary as Bobby looked and sounded, emerged from the office, followed by the Chief, who bore the disappointed face of a child who hadn't received the toy he wanted at Christmas. The three men saw Bobby. The two captains moved in front of the Chief as the trio moved towards Bobby.

"Goren," the Chief barked. "What did you say to Bertelli?"

Bobby fumbled with his binder.

"We wanted a confession," the Chief continued. "Not for you to make him off himself."

Olivia was too stunned to respond to the Chief. She was nearly as stunned to hear Elliott Stable leap to Bobby's defense.

"He got your confession," Elliott said angrily. "And he didn't do anything that would make Bertelli off himself…I was there."

The Chief glared at Elliott. "Your record with suspects doesn't make you…"

"We were all there, Chief," Ross said. "Goren did nothing…said nothing…to make Bertelli suicide. Bertelli killed himself because he was a coward he couldn't face his own evil and punishment."

Cragen, white faced with anger, didn't speak—Olivia suspected he didn't trust his voice—but moved to stand next to Bobby and Olivia.

"The problem here, Chief," Ross said. "Is that you're upset that you've lost your chance at parading Bertelli in front of the press…And you're turning on Goren because he wouldn't get in front of the cameras with you…He's a convenient target…Remember, Chief…Yesterday you couldn't say enough good things about him…And he's the same great detective today that he was then."

The Chief stared at Ross for several seconds. Finally, he pushed past Ross and the other detectives. He stopped abruptly when Alex Eames, standing several feet higher than her actual height, planted her body in front of him.

"I think, Chief," she said coldly. "You owe an apology to Detective Goren."

"Eames," Ross warned.

The Chief, too shocked to react, stared at Alex.

"Eames." Bobby spoke for the first time since he'd entered the squad room. "It's all right…The Chief is under a lot of pressure…and not just because of this case."

The Chief, in even greater shock, spun to stare at Bobby, who stood placidly between Cragen and Olivia. The other detectives viewed him with almost as much surprise as the Chief.

Bobby moved towards his temporary desk. "I'd like to see the report on Bertelli's death," he said softly as he laid his binder on the desk.

Alex pushed past the Chief and walked to Bobby. "What are you doing?"

"Please, Eames," Bobby said. "I just want to do my job."

The Chief wordlessly skulked away. Ross and Cragen shared uneasy looks and carefully approached Bobby.

"That man," Stabler said as he watched the Chief retreat. "Is a complete and utter ass."

"Not completely," Munch said dryly. "The ass is a useful beast of burden. The Chief is scarcely useful."

A smile tugged at the corners of Bobby's mouth but he concentrated on the few bits of paper on his desk.

"Goren," Ross said kindly. "I meant what I said."

"Thank you, Captain," Bobby said. Olivia and Alex heard the tension in his voice. "I…I appreciate it."

"Ross is right, Detective," Cragen said. "Bertelli's death wasn't the result of anything you said or dis."

"I understand, Sir," Bobby replied. "But I'd like to work on the cleanup." He studied one of the papers on his desk.

Olivia felt helpless. Bobby had raised his defenses, and she had no idea of how to breach them. She turned to Alex, who at least had some experience in dealing with her partner.

"Bobby," Alex said gently. "There's not that much to clean up."

"When will the ME report on Bertelli be ready?" Bobby ignored Alex's comment.

"Won't be ready until tomorrow sometime," Alex answered. "But it's clearly a suicide."

"Gregory Veneer…" Bobby began.

"Has the best lawyers money can buy," Stabler said quietly. He had stepped behind Alex.

Bobby rubbed the back of his neck. "Do you have a copy of Bertelli's note?"

"Detective," Cragen said. "Bertelli's death was not your fault…There's nothing here for you to solve."

Ross had joined the others at Bobby's desk. "Goren…You can't be responsible for everyone and everything, but especially what a seriously disturbed killer does. Your work on this case has been exemplary…You can help with the paperwork, but I don't think anyone would mind if you took some time…"

"No," Bobby said hastily. "I…I'll help."

Ross beat a strategic retreat. "All right…I'll expect you and Eames back at Major Case tomorrow. You've done a terrific job in working with SVU, but I'm not going to let you work with them forever."

"Yes, Captain," Alex said. Bobby nodded.

The rest of the day was the sort of quiet, uneventful, comfortable day NYPD detectives dream of. For Alex and Olivia, the time was marred by their shared worries about Bobby. They tried to watch him closely without hovering over him. For his part, Bobby moved relentlessly through the paperwork. When he finished his, he turned to help Alex with hers. Everyone wanted to be free of the case, and the piles of paperwork disappeared quickly. Bobby signed a last form and scanned the room for more work. Stabler approached him.

"There isn't any more, Goren," he said. "C'mon…We all deserve a break…Let's go get a drink…or two…"

"Yea, Bobby," Alex said. "You owe me a margarita at least."

Bobby rubbed the back of his neck and looked at Olivia.

"C'mon, Bobby," she said, her voice a gentle echo of Stabler's. "Let's relax a bit."

Fin tossed Munch's black coat across his desk. "Yea…And you and your partner don't have to buy, Goren…We all owe you two…"

Munch scowled. "What's this "we" business?" he grumbled.

Bobby looked again at Olivia. Part of him desperately wanted to be with her; part of him desperately wanted to run away. "Ok," he said softly. "But I gotta warn you…I may not be the easiest guy to get along with tonight…"

The detectives were almost out the door when Cragen appeared from his office. "Red Alert…George Flynn is headed in…Followed by the media…"

Bobby looked as if someone had hit him in the stomach. Olivia and Alex moved closer to him, followed by the others, who formed a protective phalanx around Bobby.

"The back door," Stabler said.

"Sorry, Cap," Fin said. "But we're off the clock."

Cragen thought for a moment. "You know what? So am I." He grabbed his coat and followed his detectives.

Bobby was silent during the short walk to the bar, but he hesitated when the group arrived at its door. "Thank you," he said softly. "I…I don't think I could have…"

"I don't think any of us could," Fin said as they moved to a large table. "I can't think what would be worse. Flynn if he hasn't changed, or Flynn if he has."

"He'll probably write a book about all this," Munch grumbled. "And make a lot of money off it."

Bobby sat between Olivia and Alex. It was a comfortable place, but he had the unhappily familiar sensation of being in a group of people but not a part of them.

"Don't worry," Olivia whispered to him. "You've with friends…" She gently squeezed his arm.

He looked in her eyes, and he knew that she didn't just understand. She knew. Olivia knew what he was feeling because she had felt it too. Alex, as wonderful and good as she was, hadn't known from since she could remember what it was like to feel isolated and alone, to feel as if social conversation was a language you had to study and learn, to feel as if any slip in word or action would mark you forever as the alien, the weirdo, the outsider. Bobby feared that Alex had learned those feelings, and that much of her education came from her association with him. But Olivia knew those feelings, and, like him, known them for a very long time.

He reached for Olivia's hand under the table and gripped it tenderly. Her thumb began to make soft, soothing circles on the back of his hand.

"This is going to cost you guys," Alex grinned. "Bobby and I have expensive tastes."

"We'll spread it out," Stabler grinned back. "Even Munch'll pay up."

Roughly an hour later found Bobby sipping his third Scotch. It wasn't the most expensive brand the bar carried—Bobby decided to take some pity on the SVU detectives, and he preferred one of the slightly less pricy brands. He'd never felt so comfortable in a group of cops, maybe in any group. He understood the language, the jokes, and he even joined in the talk. He added details to the stories Fin related from their shared days in Narcotics. Olivia held his hand off and on through the evening, and Bobby knew the warmth he felt came not only from the alcohol he drank. He glanced at Olivia.

"I…I'm happy," he thought. "I'm happy…More than that…I'm in love…I love someone…A really wonderful someone…And she loves me."

Bobby leaned forward. He was on the point of refuting one of Munch's theories when he became aware of a disturbance near the bar. Alex and Stabler had headed to the bar to pick up another round of drinks, and Bobby realized that the two were in the center of several men Bobby vaguely recognized as cops.

"Problem," Olivia said quietly. "Elliott doesn't always live up to his last name."

"And Alex has a temper…particularly around some cops." Bobby stood and walked quickly towards the group. Olivia and the other SVU detectives followed him. As he got close to the cops, Bobby heard the words "whack job", and he nearly lurched to a stop. Silence descended over the group. Bobby wasn't sure if the quiet was the result of his presence or that of Captain Cragen.

"Oh, God," Bobby thought. "I'm the problem."

He took a deep breath. "Anything wrong?" he asked Alex.

Olivia watched as Bobby drew himself up to his full height. It was an impressive sight, made more so by the fact Bobby seemed to spend a lot of time trying to hide his size and presence. But when he chose to employ them, as he had in the interrogation room and as he did now, the results could be frightening. Olivia didn't blame the cops for shutting up.

"Nothing wrong, Goren," Ales said evenly, although a minute earlier she had seriously contemplated breaking a bottle and using it to perform surgery on certain parts of the other cops' anatomies.

"Yea," Stabler said quietly, although he fixed his cold blue eyes on one of the cops. "Just a discussion."

"About the department's resident nut case?" Bobby asked.

His voice was almost genial, but Alex heard the tension in it and the not quite hidden pain in his eyes. Behind him, Olivia felt the anger and hurt rise from his body.

A couple of the cops' eyes widened. "We didn't mean anything…" one began lamely.

"Of course you meant it," Bobby said. "If you were just joking, if you didn't mean it, Detectives Stabler and Eames wouldn't be upset by it."

Alex and Stabler couldn't look at Bobby. Cragen stood quietly amazed at Bobby's control.

"You know, I'll grant you my methods are unorthodox," Bobby continued calmly. "But I get the job done. I'm a pretty good detective. I try to use my brain."

"Yea," Alex said. She'd recovered and was terribly proud of Bobby. "Some of you might want to try that last thing."

"We…" one of the cops started.

"Oh, save it for when Goren and Eames show up to save your butts," Munch said angrily. "C'mon," he said to his colleague. "These brainless wonders are cutting into our time."

"Sorry about that," Stabler said as they returned to their table.

"Jerks," Fin said darkly. "You're a better man than me, Goren. I would've gone after them."

"Which wouldn't have been too bright," Munch commented. "Seeing there's a lot of them and some of them outrank you."

"It's ok," Bobby shrugged. "I've dealt with worse."

"You shouldn't have to," Stabler said. He struggled to control his temper.

"I appreciate the defense," Bobby said softly. "I really do…Especially when it comes from a good cop."

Stabler reddened. "That means a lot coming from you, Goren."

"Oh, gee," Munch said. "Is this turning into some sort of mutual admiration society?"

Alex tipped her glass towards Munch. "And we all love you, too."

In the middle of the laughter at the table, Bobby turned to Olivia. She smiled at him and took his hand in hers.

Bobby looked around the table, and then again at Olivia.

"I belong here," he thought. "I have work I do well and enjoy doing. It matters. I love someone, and she loves me. I have a good life. I am a good man."

"Hey," Olivia whispered to him. "All good?"

He smiled. "It's very good."

END

And I have a possible idea for another Olivia/Bobby pairing, if anyone's interested...


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